This portion of a verse out of Psalm 31, stood out to me this morning:
"My times are in your hand;"
I first thought of the old clock towers that grace many of the old courthouses that we had visited over the past months, and I knew I could draw some illustrations from those.
But then, as I walked, I stopped and talked to a former neighbor as he walked his dog. I chided him for leaving his other dog at home, and only bringing one on this walking tour, but he gently and softly informed me that they had been forced to put the other part of that pair to sleep a couple of days previously. Chagrined, I politely asked about the second dog, and he related the trauma of having to put him down because of his medical problems.
This all struck a chord in me because Mayre had, just the previous evening, had a conversation with a close friend who had done the same thing while we were on our trip north last weekend.
Both parties had loved their pooches, and the dogs were like children of the family. Both were still grieving, and I felt bad for them in their trials.
All of that reminded me of an incident many years ago, after our last son had gone off to college. We had a little dog that developed a back problem and could hardly get around, and it was painful for us to watch her try. We decided that, if the vet could not do anything to help the situation, we would have to put her down. After I went off to work the next day, Mayre took Corky to the vet and learned that she could not be helped. The vet asked if she wanted him to put her down, and, as the dog looked up at her with those big brown trusting eyes, she quietly told him that I would be along after work to let him know what we wanted to do. She could not even tell him.
I went by, not being brave enough to even look at the dog, just told him to go ahead and put her to sleep, paid the bill and went home.
Were the times of those three little dogs in our hands?
What about the times of the three owners? Who controls those?
The Psalmist wrote "My times are in Your hands", and I know that to be true. God, who is not bound by time or space, knows my length of days, I don't.
We grieve when a pet or a person dies, how much more does God grieve when we live for ourselves and not use our times to honor Him.
The grieving is real in both cases, only the importance varies.
Friday, May 31, 2013
Thursday, May 30, 2013
A "What If" Thankfulness
Is there a part of thankfulness that looks backward and asks the question "what if"?
Things happen in our lives that, on the surface look bad, but as we take the time to look at the events that preceded, we find that God has been there, and it could have been much worse. Of course, bad, worse and much worse are all relative to the situation. What looks bad to me at this moment may seem like a piece of cake to someone whose life is filled with stuff that, at least to me anyway, appears like a very black day. There are so many variables in each life, that to classify an event as bad, or even a shade of bad, is dangerous or downright silly.
So, I give a case in point. This from a blessed life, without a doubt, and an item that would not even fall on the scale of bad to a lot of folks. But it did cause me to look back and be thankful.
Coming back from Gatlinburg and Chattanooga on Tuesday of this week, we decided to do another "courthouse run". We could leave Tennessee and drive through part of north Georgia, stop to visit a friend, and then continue on down through the central part of our state, stopping at various county seats to photograph some old courhouses. This idea was a "two birds with one stick" deal, as we could check off a few towns from our state's numerous counties, and miss the freeway driving at the same time.
So we traveled to Chatsworth, Ellijay, Jasper and Canton before stopping for lunch in Cumming. We not only saw courthouses, but other sidelights in these towns as well. like these from Ellijay on that Tuesday morning:
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After a leisurely lunch with our friend in Cumming, we started south through Winder, Monroe, Madison and Eatonton, again catching courthouses and other miscellaneous stuff, such as these from Eatonton:
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By the time we finished a quick supper in Milledgeville, the sun had set and we still had many miles to go to get home. So we took off, down back roads, heading toward I-16 and the fastest way home. It was not all that fast and pretty late when we finally had a chance to sleep in our own bed.
Now to get to the point of this long discourse. During all of the Tuesday driving, I had noticed the needle on the car temperature gauge keep creeping up when we were stopped in traffic and then settling back to normal as we drove at regular speeds. It never got bad, just pointing out that something was amiss.
Yesterday, as I drove to Brunswick for an appointment, I noticed a small clanking sound, accompanying this heating up again. After letting the car sit for a few hours, and trying the solution of adding some coolant to the engine, the sound was more pronounced. A couple of friends from the condo listened to it and deduced that I might have a water pump problem.
Financially, this is not good, but when I look back at Tuesday, I realize that the situation could have been worse, a lot worse. I could play the "what if" game. How about all those hours on back roads, a lot of them in the dark? Even I-16 gets pretty lonely at night, and towns are few and far between. There were a lot of spots that we might not have liked to be if the pump went out and the car quit.
So I look back and am thankful. Is this even a 2 on a scale of 10 "bad" events? No, but it does cause me to see how God can bless , even in a less than less-than-good situation.
And I am thankful,
AGAIN
Things happen in our lives that, on the surface look bad, but as we take the time to look at the events that preceded, we find that God has been there, and it could have been much worse. Of course, bad, worse and much worse are all relative to the situation. What looks bad to me at this moment may seem like a piece of cake to someone whose life is filled with stuff that, at least to me anyway, appears like a very black day. There are so many variables in each life, that to classify an event as bad, or even a shade of bad, is dangerous or downright silly.
So, I give a case in point. This from a blessed life, without a doubt, and an item that would not even fall on the scale of bad to a lot of folks. But it did cause me to look back and be thankful.
Coming back from Gatlinburg and Chattanooga on Tuesday of this week, we decided to do another "courthouse run". We could leave Tennessee and drive through part of north Georgia, stop to visit a friend, and then continue on down through the central part of our state, stopping at various county seats to photograph some old courhouses. This idea was a "two birds with one stick" deal, as we could check off a few towns from our state's numerous counties, and miss the freeway driving at the same time.
So we traveled to Chatsworth, Ellijay, Jasper and Canton before stopping for lunch in Cumming. We not only saw courthouses, but other sidelights in these towns as well. like these from Ellijay on that Tuesday morning:
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After a leisurely lunch with our friend in Cumming, we started south through Winder, Monroe, Madison and Eatonton, again catching courthouses and other miscellaneous stuff, such as these from Eatonton:
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By the time we finished a quick supper in Milledgeville, the sun had set and we still had many miles to go to get home. So we took off, down back roads, heading toward I-16 and the fastest way home. It was not all that fast and pretty late when we finally had a chance to sleep in our own bed.
Now to get to the point of this long discourse. During all of the Tuesday driving, I had noticed the needle on the car temperature gauge keep creeping up when we were stopped in traffic and then settling back to normal as we drove at regular speeds. It never got bad, just pointing out that something was amiss.
Yesterday, as I drove to Brunswick for an appointment, I noticed a small clanking sound, accompanying this heating up again. After letting the car sit for a few hours, and trying the solution of adding some coolant to the engine, the sound was more pronounced. A couple of friends from the condo listened to it and deduced that I might have a water pump problem.
Financially, this is not good, but when I look back at Tuesday, I realize that the situation could have been worse, a lot worse. I could play the "what if" game. How about all those hours on back roads, a lot of them in the dark? Even I-16 gets pretty lonely at night, and towns are few and far between. There were a lot of spots that we might not have liked to be if the pump went out and the car quit.
So I look back and am thankful. Is this even a 2 on a scale of 10 "bad" events? No, but it does cause me to see how God can bless , even in a less than less-than-good situation.
And I am thankful,
AGAIN
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Busyness is No Substitute
We have spent the last couple of days on the road. Monday getting out of Gatlinburg and back to Chattanooga to spend the Memorial Day night, and then Tuesday getting back home from there while doing some "courthouse" work along the way in some counties we had not visited.
Add those two days with the activities of the Gaither Fest days with their concerts and stuff, and life has been full of busyness, but as I sit here in the morning quiet, I realize what I have missed. There has been so little time for personal meditation and reflection on what is going on around me.
Although the things that have taken hold of my life over these past few days are not bad in themselves, they take on the form of just busyness, as I look back on them from this quiet vantage point, and I realize more than ever, the need for some time alone with God. Even as I try to take some time this morning, reading Scripture and praying, I find that the things that have filled my life over these days are still there, trying to crowd out any thoughts of what God might have to say to me today.
When I couple those thoughts with the realizations of what I have on my schedule for today, a schedule that must begin in a short time, God is pushed out of the way, and I am left with a feeling that there is much more to life than just busyness, however good and necessary it is.
So I ask for forgiveness, and I ask God to work in my life this day, reminding me in my goings and doings, that He is there and that He sees my need. I confess my desire to hear from Him, even while not giving Him the time to speak, and I ask for open ears, eyes and heart to see His workings in my life.
And I pray that this time of realization will not just be a substitute for the real thing, but be a catalyst for the allowing of it to happen.
And I say "thank You" for the safety of the travel and for the need in my life that causes me to look to You in this time.
Add those two days with the activities of the Gaither Fest days with their concerts and stuff, and life has been full of busyness, but as I sit here in the morning quiet, I realize what I have missed. There has been so little time for personal meditation and reflection on what is going on around me.
Although the things that have taken hold of my life over these past few days are not bad in themselves, they take on the form of just busyness, as I look back on them from this quiet vantage point, and I realize more than ever, the need for some time alone with God. Even as I try to take some time this morning, reading Scripture and praying, I find that the things that have filled my life over these days are still there, trying to crowd out any thoughts of what God might have to say to me today.
When I couple those thoughts with the realizations of what I have on my schedule for today, a schedule that must begin in a short time, God is pushed out of the way, and I am left with a feeling that there is much more to life than just busyness, however good and necessary it is.
So I ask for forgiveness, and I ask God to work in my life this day, reminding me in my goings and doings, that He is there and that He sees my need. I confess my desire to hear from Him, even while not giving Him the time to speak, and I ask for open ears, eyes and heart to see His workings in my life.
And I pray that this time of realization will not just be a substitute for the real thing, but be a catalyst for the allowing of it to happen.
And I say "thank You" for the safety of the travel and for the need in my life that causes me to look to You in this time.
Sunday, May 26, 2013
Music and More
My kids will nod their heads rather profusely at this next statement, but it is still true nonetheless. "I am kinda opinionated about music styles, especially those that have to do with Christian music". I tend to equate what I like with the right way to worship through song. Because a certain mode puts me in a worshipful mood, It must be the right way. A case in point:
We are in Gatlinburg, TN this weekend, participating in, what is billed as "The Gaither Family Fest. This is organized each year by Bill and Gloria Gaither and brings together Christian singers and groups for 4 days of concert and worship. Beginning on Friday night, continuing with 2 concerts on Saturday and another 2 on Sunday, culminating with the last one on Monday morning, Memorial Day.
Friday night was good, a good blend of music coming from the groups and individuals that were on the program that night. Saturday morning was OK also with more of the same, with a little comedy thrown in. Then came Saturday night. The songs were loud and the words and melodies, if I could pick them out, were unrecognizable to me. I so wanted to leave early, and finally did leave at intermission, hoping that Sunday would be better.
Sunday dawned grey, overcast, and with a sprinkle or two. It was not a good omen Since it was a Sunday morning, I thought that possibly we would be treated to a few hymns, with their respective recognizable tunes and words. Maybe we would even get soft instead of loud. Man, that would be good.
And we did, a gentler kind of service, with songs I knew or at least could think about without having to sort through all the loudness. It was good.
Sometimes, when I am in church and have listened to music that does not seem to do anything for my worshipful attitude, and then the sounds from the stage soften, and a melody comes out, I recognize a song that I know, and that I like to sing, but can't as I choke up and can't even sing at all. I hear the people singing around me and I can't, I just bow my head and say "Thanks".
That happened to me several times this morning. It was a good worship time for me, and I came away saying "this is the way it should be, reverent and familiar".
I compare the two services that I had just attended, one loud and boisterous, and the other quiet and reverent. Then I thought of the participants in both. Did God look on the acts of worship with acknowledgement that they were good? Both kinds?
It is not the outward expressions of worship that are the important items, it is the heart of the worshiper, and that puts some of my attitudes to shame. It may not be my preference, but I should not put that down and vow that my way is the only way.
God sees and hears, what the heart has to say in all of this. I pray that He will help me to catch a glimpse of this too, even when I "know" that I am right. Ho, Ho, Ho...
We are in Gatlinburg, TN this weekend, participating in, what is billed as "The Gaither Family Fest. This is organized each year by Bill and Gloria Gaither and brings together Christian singers and groups for 4 days of concert and worship. Beginning on Friday night, continuing with 2 concerts on Saturday and another 2 on Sunday, culminating with the last one on Monday morning, Memorial Day.
Friday night was good, a good blend of music coming from the groups and individuals that were on the program that night. Saturday morning was OK also with more of the same, with a little comedy thrown in. Then came Saturday night. The songs were loud and the words and melodies, if I could pick them out, were unrecognizable to me. I so wanted to leave early, and finally did leave at intermission, hoping that Sunday would be better.
Sunday dawned grey, overcast, and with a sprinkle or two. It was not a good omen Since it was a Sunday morning, I thought that possibly we would be treated to a few hymns, with their respective recognizable tunes and words. Maybe we would even get soft instead of loud. Man, that would be good.
And we did, a gentler kind of service, with songs I knew or at least could think about without having to sort through all the loudness. It was good.
Sometimes, when I am in church and have listened to music that does not seem to do anything for my worshipful attitude, and then the sounds from the stage soften, and a melody comes out, I recognize a song that I know, and that I like to sing, but can't as I choke up and can't even sing at all. I hear the people singing around me and I can't, I just bow my head and say "Thanks".
That happened to me several times this morning. It was a good worship time for me, and I came away saying "this is the way it should be, reverent and familiar".
I compare the two services that I had just attended, one loud and boisterous, and the other quiet and reverent. Then I thought of the participants in both. Did God look on the acts of worship with acknowledgement that they were good? Both kinds?
It is not the outward expressions of worship that are the important items, it is the heart of the worshiper, and that puts some of my attitudes to shame. It may not be my preference, but I should not put that down and vow that my way is the only way.
God sees and hears, what the heart has to say in all of this. I pray that He will help me to catch a glimpse of this too, even when I "know" that I am right. Ho, Ho, Ho...
Friday, May 24, 2013
Did You Ever Wonder?
Yesterday, we traveled from home up to Chattanooga to meet some friends and get ready for a Memorial Day weekend in Gatlinburg. As we do, whenever we have a window of opportunity, we made a side trip up through the middle of the state to visit some county seats and look at the courthouses. We made 4 of these stops before we ran out of time.
At our second stop we landed in Wrightsville, the friendliest city in Georgia, according to the sign on the water tower, the county seat of Johnson County.
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The courthouse was an old one, having been built in 1895 and redone in 1940. As I looked around it and inside as well, I thought of all the things that must have gone on in there through all those years. The courthouse had been in the center of that town for 118 years, and I'm sure that those benches in the lobby could tell a multitude of tales
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Just think of the events that had swirled around and in that building. Spanish American War, WWI, Depression, WWII, JFK, Cold War, Vietnam, Korea, Iran and Iraq, and those are just the Historical eras.
Then there must have been all the personal stuff that had gone on in peoples's lives through that time. What arguments had taken place there, what heartaches, what joys, what intrigues?
Just to be able to sit there on those old benches and listen to the folks, to watch them as they walked past, into various offices and courtrooms, to see them as they exited the building, to hear their stories, now that would be the stuff of life.
That is one of the beauties of these old buildings. The things that they have witnessed.
I'm sure the newer, more modern, buildings have some things to tell also, but these just seem to shout it out all over town.
Did you ever wonder when you stumble upon something like this?
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At our second stop we landed in Wrightsville, the friendliest city in Georgia, according to the sign on the water tower, the county seat of Johnson County.
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The courthouse was an old one, having been built in 1895 and redone in 1940. As I looked around it and inside as well, I thought of all the things that must have gone on in there through all those years. The courthouse had been in the center of that town for 118 years, and I'm sure that those benches in the lobby could tell a multitude of tales
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Just think of the events that had swirled around and in that building. Spanish American War, WWI, Depression, WWII, JFK, Cold War, Vietnam, Korea, Iran and Iraq, and those are just the Historical eras.
Then there must have been all the personal stuff that had gone on in peoples's lives through that time. What arguments had taken place there, what heartaches, what joys, what intrigues?
Just to be able to sit there on those old benches and listen to the folks, to watch them as they walked past, into various offices and courtrooms, to see them as they exited the building, to hear their stories, now that would be the stuff of life.
That is one of the beauties of these old buildings. The things that they have witnessed.
I'm sure the newer, more modern, buildings have some things to tell also, but these just seem to shout it out all over town.
Did you ever wonder when you stumble upon something like this?
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Wednesday, May 22, 2013
A Change of Plans and Encouragement
I was not going to blog today for various reasons, as stated here:
I got up on time but had a 7am meeting at church, and that left little time to think or write
I usually like to write pretty early in the morning when I can still think coherently, and, when that time passes, I usually decide to let it rest till another day.
I like to write about something that has touched me in some way from what I read, and, when I don't have time to read, my source is unavailable.
Then a few minutes ago I got a call from one of my friends, and, to paraphrase his words somewhat, he said, "Where is my blog today? I'm not sure I can go on with my day without it."
I know he just wanted to rag me a little for being lazy, but it made me wonder if what I write does make any difference to anyone else. Most of the time I post my blog and don't think about anything more than what the reading has said to me, but there are times when I get some confirmation that they feel the same way, too.
Yesterday, I got a note from a lady in our church who said that she often felt the same way (as the post she had just read), and she ended her comment with "Keep on Writing". Those two words gave me another reason to continue.
So, there is nothing new here in this one, but I did write and I do have one thought:
Whatever God gives you to do, "Keep on __________"
I got up on time but had a 7am meeting at church, and that left little time to think or write
I usually like to write pretty early in the morning when I can still think coherently, and, when that time passes, I usually decide to let it rest till another day.
I like to write about something that has touched me in some way from what I read, and, when I don't have time to read, my source is unavailable.
Then a few minutes ago I got a call from one of my friends, and, to paraphrase his words somewhat, he said, "Where is my blog today? I'm not sure I can go on with my day without it."
I know he just wanted to rag me a little for being lazy, but it made me wonder if what I write does make any difference to anyone else. Most of the time I post my blog and don't think about anything more than what the reading has said to me, but there are times when I get some confirmation that they feel the same way, too.
Yesterday, I got a note from a lady in our church who said that she often felt the same way (as the post she had just read), and she ended her comment with "Keep on Writing". Those two words gave me another reason to continue.
So, there is nothing new here in this one, but I did write and I do have one thought:
Whatever God gives you to do, "Keep on __________"
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
God Is Good
How many times have I glibly voiced these three words, and how many times have I heard them mentioned or proclaimed in my presence? I believe them to be true in my life, but how about in the lives of others who live, as Thoreau puts it, "lives of quiet desperation"?
Yesterday, we took a short trip up into South Carolina to see a couple who were visiting their daughter and her family. They are our age, but live under somewhat different circumstances. The husband has Alzheimer's, and she seems to be aging rapidly as the caregiver in that situation. She did not smile much, and, as I thought of her this morning, wondered if she would utter those three little words, and mean them, on this day.
I thought of the people who have been ravaged by tornados over the past couple of days in the midsection of this country. Those who have been pulled from the wreckage and their families might indeed mouth these words and mean them, but what about others who were not so fortunate?
As I read the words of Psalm 100 this morning, I thought about these different peoples:
"For the Lord is good;"
This psalm is a happy one. I can almost see the joy on the faces of the worshippers as they celebrate what God has meant in their lives.
But I confess, that when tragedy strikes close to home, I do not really understand. At least in those early moments, I don't. I want to say to those hurting, "time will help you to know the good in this situation", but at the moment, time has not passed and the hurt is real, for all of us.
So what do I do when I come face to face with the kind of situation that I saw in the eyes of those folks yesterday?
Do I think the short sentence, given in these three words, to be true? Yes. Do I understand the full impact of it? No.
So, what do I do? Trust in God's will, pray for those in need and wait for some time to pass and see how it works out. Maybe that is all I am called to do right now.
Some questions take a long time to get answers, but I know that they will be, some day.
God, please give me the trust and the patience to wait.
Yesterday, we took a short trip up into South Carolina to see a couple who were visiting their daughter and her family. They are our age, but live under somewhat different circumstances. The husband has Alzheimer's, and she seems to be aging rapidly as the caregiver in that situation. She did not smile much, and, as I thought of her this morning, wondered if she would utter those three little words, and mean them, on this day.
I thought of the people who have been ravaged by tornados over the past couple of days in the midsection of this country. Those who have been pulled from the wreckage and their families might indeed mouth these words and mean them, but what about others who were not so fortunate?
As I read the words of Psalm 100 this morning, I thought about these different peoples:
"For the Lord is good;"
This psalm is a happy one. I can almost see the joy on the faces of the worshippers as they celebrate what God has meant in their lives.
But I confess, that when tragedy strikes close to home, I do not really understand. At least in those early moments, I don't. I want to say to those hurting, "time will help you to know the good in this situation", but at the moment, time has not passed and the hurt is real, for all of us.
So what do I do when I come face to face with the kind of situation that I saw in the eyes of those folks yesterday?
Do I think the short sentence, given in these three words, to be true? Yes. Do I understand the full impact of it? No.
So, what do I do? Trust in God's will, pray for those in need and wait for some time to pass and see how it works out. Maybe that is all I am called to do right now.
Some questions take a long time to get answers, but I know that they will be, some day.
God, please give me the trust and the patience to wait.
Monday, May 20, 2013
How Many Times?
A lot of the time I seem to live in the sameness of a day. I wake up at or near the same time, I take the same path on my walk, I read, I think, I write, I eat, I play and the list goes on. Looking back on it, it seems like more of the same.
Even when I am reminded, as I read different Scriptures each morning, that the day I am living in has not even been lived in before, it still seems like a lot of routine stuff.
I was thinking this morning about my weekend days. There were things on the schedule that I was not particularly looking forward to, but knew I had to live through them. As these events took place I realized that, not only were they not things to be dreaded, but they actually held great meaning for me, if only I took them in the right way. If I had looked at them correctly, they may have even been high points, but, instead, I resigned myself to just getting through. I was blessed anyway, but how much more if I had been looking for them.
This particular day was still somewhat dark when I got up. When I walked out the sun was still well below the horizon, but the clouds up above were beginning to light up. I knew that the day would begin on God's timetable, and all I had to do was to walk in that new light.
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I knew that the light would be new, but I felt that I did not want to just live like the day was just another "same ole" day. I did not want to just acknowledge the newness of this day, but I wanted to live in the actuality of it. I did not want to just pay lip service to the idea, but grasp it and make it mine in reality.
This is a new day. I have not lived in it before. How can I live in what it might bring. Not dread, not resignation, but in a sense of wonder, even awe. Knowing that God has allowed me to see this day, and there is a reason.
I have been reminded of these things before and have even written about them, but I seem to go back and think they are just the routines of a normal life. How many times must my memory be jogged? I know these "new day" facts are true, so why can't I get it from my brain to my life?
The morning is dark, the sun comes up, a new light shines. It is a NEW LIGHT, one that has not been seen before. This day has not been lived in before. Help me to see it that way.
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Even when I am reminded, as I read different Scriptures each morning, that the day I am living in has not even been lived in before, it still seems like a lot of routine stuff.
I was thinking this morning about my weekend days. There were things on the schedule that I was not particularly looking forward to, but knew I had to live through them. As these events took place I realized that, not only were they not things to be dreaded, but they actually held great meaning for me, if only I took them in the right way. If I had looked at them correctly, they may have even been high points, but, instead, I resigned myself to just getting through. I was blessed anyway, but how much more if I had been looking for them.
This particular day was still somewhat dark when I got up. When I walked out the sun was still well below the horizon, but the clouds up above were beginning to light up. I knew that the day would begin on God's timetable, and all I had to do was to walk in that new light.
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I knew that the light would be new, but I felt that I did not want to just live like the day was just another "same ole" day. I did not want to just acknowledge the newness of this day, but I wanted to live in the actuality of it. I did not want to just pay lip service to the idea, but grasp it and make it mine in reality.
This is a new day. I have not lived in it before. How can I live in what it might bring. Not dread, not resignation, but in a sense of wonder, even awe. Knowing that God has allowed me to see this day, and there is a reason.
I have been reminded of these things before and have even written about them, but I seem to go back and think they are just the routines of a normal life. How many times must my memory be jogged? I know these "new day" facts are true, so why can't I get it from my brain to my life?
The morning is dark, the sun comes up, a new light shines. It is a NEW LIGHT, one that has not been seen before. This day has not been lived in before. Help me to see it that way.
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AGAIN
Saturday, May 18, 2013
Graduation and Duct Tape
When our pastor came to lead our church some years back, Mayre and I volunteered on occasion to be the baby sitter for their children. Well, their oldest, Eli, graduated this morning from High School and, being invited, we went.
It was a warm morning here on the Island, but thankfully, the ceremonies were on the short side. It was well planned, the speeches and awards were short in duration, and the surroundings outside were almost ideal (almost--we sat in the sunshine and it became a tad bit hot).
The commencement speaker was the retiring president of our local college. In the course of her talk, she made the remark that, regardless of what she say, her words would not be remember for over 24 hours, if that long. Her remark got me to thinking of all the graduations we had attended over the past 60 years or so, beginning with our own in 1954 from high school and continuing through those of our kids, and now going on with our grand kids, and also including friends and family of friends. No telling how many graduation addresses we have heard, but as Mayre and I agreed on the way home, there was but one talk that we both remembered.
I believe it was when Doug received his degree from Georgia Tech, or it might have been Dwayne as both did get advanced degrees from that august institution, and the commencement speaker was a professor from the Engineering Department. His speech was memorable because of its length, less than 10 minutes as I recall, and also as it related to its subject. He talked about engineering and the use of duct tape.
As this professor reached the end of his presentation, he said something like "If you don't remember anything that I said this morning, at least remember one thing, Duct Tape". Then he sat down to some giggles but also to warm applause.
Profound, maybe, but memorable, definitely.
It was a warm morning here on the Island, but thankfully, the ceremonies were on the short side. It was well planned, the speeches and awards were short in duration, and the surroundings outside were almost ideal (almost--we sat in the sunshine and it became a tad bit hot).
The commencement speaker was the retiring president of our local college. In the course of her talk, she made the remark that, regardless of what she say, her words would not be remember for over 24 hours, if that long. Her remark got me to thinking of all the graduations we had attended over the past 60 years or so, beginning with our own in 1954 from high school and continuing through those of our kids, and now going on with our grand kids, and also including friends and family of friends. No telling how many graduation addresses we have heard, but as Mayre and I agreed on the way home, there was but one talk that we both remembered.
I believe it was when Doug received his degree from Georgia Tech, or it might have been Dwayne as both did get advanced degrees from that august institution, and the commencement speaker was a professor from the Engineering Department. His speech was memorable because of its length, less than 10 minutes as I recall, and also as it related to its subject. He talked about engineering and the use of duct tape.
As this professor reached the end of his presentation, he said something like "If you don't remember anything that I said this morning, at least remember one thing, Duct Tape". Then he sat down to some giggles but also to warm applause.
Profound, maybe, but memorable, definitely.
Friday, May 17, 2013
A Couple of Leaves, A Sign?
David writes in Psalm 86:
"Show me a sign of your favor,"
I feel the same way on some days. Like yesterday, I woke fairly early and read some of the Scripture for that day, but had to leave that and get ready for some activities. I confess to not getting much out of the passage that I read, but went ahead and just moved through the day.
Then I saw those words this morning, and I thought "that is what I need for the start of this day, a sign from God, one that says He cares and He is there". Then I thought, "are these thoughts right? Should I even think this or look for this". David prayed this way and he was a king and a man after God's own heart, and he needed something to hang on to. Perhaps some days, I do to.
So, with these things running around in my mind, I went out the door for a walk, thinking that surely in the quiet, I would catch a glimpse of something, anything, that would confirm what I knew deep down was true. What did I see?
A couple of leaves, recently detached from a tree, falling down in front of me as if to say, "look here at this".
A big blue heron along side a pond, probably looking for breakfast.
The sun as it rose in the sky and filtered through the branches of a low bush.
Two redbirds on a bird feeder, peacefully enjoying a meal together.
A head cover for a putter that someone had lost playing yesterday.
Then as I got home and came inside, a smoke detector went off for a second or two.
Were any of these, or maybe all of them, a sign or signs of something that I needed? Were these small things tied together or just random? Did any of them matter or should they?
I am probably no closer at this moment in putting all of this together, but at least it got me to thinking about signs, about my life, about how little things may matter, and that God put all of these things there this morning for me. I was alive and still thinking, maybe that was what God wanted to tell me. He alone gives me breath and life, and pondering even the unknown portions of these could be a sign.
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But I still don't know about those leaves. They just fell with no wind, right in front of me and "spoke", so much so that I picked them up and carried them home, where they sit looking at me right now. I'll have to think some more about all of this. Maybe God is not through with me yet, even on this score.
"Show me a sign of your favor,"
I feel the same way on some days. Like yesterday, I woke fairly early and read some of the Scripture for that day, but had to leave that and get ready for some activities. I confess to not getting much out of the passage that I read, but went ahead and just moved through the day.
Then I saw those words this morning, and I thought "that is what I need for the start of this day, a sign from God, one that says He cares and He is there". Then I thought, "are these thoughts right? Should I even think this or look for this". David prayed this way and he was a king and a man after God's own heart, and he needed something to hang on to. Perhaps some days, I do to.
So, with these things running around in my mind, I went out the door for a walk, thinking that surely in the quiet, I would catch a glimpse of something, anything, that would confirm what I knew deep down was true. What did I see?
A couple of leaves, recently detached from a tree, falling down in front of me as if to say, "look here at this".
A big blue heron along side a pond, probably looking for breakfast.
The sun as it rose in the sky and filtered through the branches of a low bush.
Two redbirds on a bird feeder, peacefully enjoying a meal together.
A head cover for a putter that someone had lost playing yesterday.
Then as I got home and came inside, a smoke detector went off for a second or two.
Were any of these, or maybe all of them, a sign or signs of something that I needed? Were these small things tied together or just random? Did any of them matter or should they?
I am probably no closer at this moment in putting all of this together, but at least it got me to thinking about signs, about my life, about how little things may matter, and that God put all of these things there this morning for me. I was alive and still thinking, maybe that was what God wanted to tell me. He alone gives me breath and life, and pondering even the unknown portions of these could be a sign.
.jpg)
But I still don't know about those leaves. They just fell with no wind, right in front of me and "spoke", so much so that I picked them up and carried them home, where they sit looking at me right now. I'll have to think some more about all of this. Maybe God is not through with me yet, even on this score.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
A Three-Legged Stool
Something in my reading this morning led me to think about the verse in Micah that states:
"He has told you, O man, what is good;
And what does the Lord require of you
But to do justice, to love kindness,
And to walk humbly with your God?"
I guess that I try to look for things in Holy Scripture that will give me an exact formula to right standing with God. Is there one capsule that, if I were to live that way, would be assurance that God would be pleased with my life?
God has given me right standing in His sight from the moment that I accepted Jesus as my Savior and confessed that He is the only way to God. Even with this knowledge, I feel that I do not always live in such a way as to make my everyday life pleasing to God. I know that He must be disappointed (if that is a good way to put it) in some of the things that I do, think and feel.
Micah tells the people of his day that God is not pleased with all of their outward shows of obedience, their sacrifices and offerings, He wants them to live to be a blessing to others and to follow after God with their whole heart and soul. And I think God still is looking for that today. Let the outward acts spring from a life of inward confidence toward God.
Justice, Kindness and Humility
The first two, Justice and Kindness, seem to be a way to live with others, but the third, Humility, is pointing to how we walk with God. The first two are good things to do, and if done in the right spirit and for the right purpose, can bless people around us, but if justice and kindness are just ways to gather accolades for our actions, then we miss the point entirely. We can't bring those good acts before Him and say "see what I have done for You" and expect His wholehearted approval.
A three-legged stool cannot stand on just two of its legs. The third leg of humility, especially in the way that we approach God, is the key to the whole process. It is not a "see what I have done" but a "thank You Father for allowing me to be Your hands and feet to these others that you put in my path", and meaning it.
Walking with God is a continual process and it seems that this leg of Humility is the key to a life lived in obedience to His precepts.
But, Oh, is it hard to actually do....
"He has told you, O man, what is good;
And what does the Lord require of you
But to do justice, to love kindness,
And to walk humbly with your God?"
I guess that I try to look for things in Holy Scripture that will give me an exact formula to right standing with God. Is there one capsule that, if I were to live that way, would be assurance that God would be pleased with my life?
God has given me right standing in His sight from the moment that I accepted Jesus as my Savior and confessed that He is the only way to God. Even with this knowledge, I feel that I do not always live in such a way as to make my everyday life pleasing to God. I know that He must be disappointed (if that is a good way to put it) in some of the things that I do, think and feel.
Micah tells the people of his day that God is not pleased with all of their outward shows of obedience, their sacrifices and offerings, He wants them to live to be a blessing to others and to follow after God with their whole heart and soul. And I think God still is looking for that today. Let the outward acts spring from a life of inward confidence toward God.
Justice, Kindness and Humility
The first two, Justice and Kindness, seem to be a way to live with others, but the third, Humility, is pointing to how we walk with God. The first two are good things to do, and if done in the right spirit and for the right purpose, can bless people around us, but if justice and kindness are just ways to gather accolades for our actions, then we miss the point entirely. We can't bring those good acts before Him and say "see what I have done for You" and expect His wholehearted approval.
A three-legged stool cannot stand on just two of its legs. The third leg of humility, especially in the way that we approach God, is the key to the whole process. It is not a "see what I have done" but a "thank You Father for allowing me to be Your hands and feet to these others that you put in my path", and meaning it.
Walking with God is a continual process and it seems that this leg of Humility is the key to a life lived in obedience to His precepts.
But, Oh, is it hard to actually do....
Monday, May 13, 2013
Rosa and I Were Contemporaries
Yesterday was Mother's Day, and I do not know whether this post has anything to do with that observance or not, but maybe by the time I finish writing it, the meaning may become clearer.
After our early church service yesterday, I took the opportunity to get on my bike for a few miles of slow exercise. I decided to take my camera with me, just in case. As I rode out the bike path north, I saw an old abandoned house hidden back in some overgrown bushes. This triggered something in my mind, and I decided to look for more of these along the way, on some of the side roads, and photograph them on the way back home.
As I continued to ride north, I noticed a road that I thought might be promising for this photography lesson and thought it could be my first exploratory street. I knew this was an older section, dating back to the 1700s and figured there might be something there, if I could spot it from the road. Not finding anything that I was looking for, I noticed that the gate to a cemetery, which had always been locked on all of my previous rides down this road, was open. It seemed to invite me to explore, even though it was private property. Every other entrance to this tract of land had "no trespassing" signs, but this one was devoid of these, so I entered cautiously, pedaling slowly down the dirt road.
The cemetery was located maybe a quarter of a mile down this road and tucked back in a grove of moss covered live oak trees. It was empty except for the birds and squirrels and perfect for some photo exploring.
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I took a few shots, read a few tombstones, and then looked for some shots where the sunlight was right. Then I saw this:
.jpg)
The light seemed right so I snapped and then looked at it more closely. Today, this mother's day of 2013, would have been this lady's 77th birthday. I thought that it was neat that I had noticed this, and then further realized that she had been born 10 days before me, back in 1936. We were contemporaries for a time, although neither of us knew that fact or knew each other. Knowing that this was an African-American cemetery let me know that our lives, although lived in the same time frame, would have, in all probability, been completely different.
Then came the questions: What was her life? Why did she die at 42? How had she lived and what had she done in that life span? Would she have celebrated this day as a mother? Were her relatives still living in the area?
Then I thought, "why did God take her at age 42, back in 1978, and leave me here?" Why was I led to her gravesite this morning, and could there be a significance to this discovery?
I'll have to ponder this for awhile, but it made this a special day for me, and I'm not even a mother.
Makes me look forward to see what Father's Day might bring.
After our early church service yesterday, I took the opportunity to get on my bike for a few miles of slow exercise. I decided to take my camera with me, just in case. As I rode out the bike path north, I saw an old abandoned house hidden back in some overgrown bushes. This triggered something in my mind, and I decided to look for more of these along the way, on some of the side roads, and photograph them on the way back home.
As I continued to ride north, I noticed a road that I thought might be promising for this photography lesson and thought it could be my first exploratory street. I knew this was an older section, dating back to the 1700s and figured there might be something there, if I could spot it from the road. Not finding anything that I was looking for, I noticed that the gate to a cemetery, which had always been locked on all of my previous rides down this road, was open. It seemed to invite me to explore, even though it was private property. Every other entrance to this tract of land had "no trespassing" signs, but this one was devoid of these, so I entered cautiously, pedaling slowly down the dirt road.
The cemetery was located maybe a quarter of a mile down this road and tucked back in a grove of moss covered live oak trees. It was empty except for the birds and squirrels and perfect for some photo exploring.
.jpg)
I took a few shots, read a few tombstones, and then looked for some shots where the sunlight was right. Then I saw this:
.jpg)
The light seemed right so I snapped and then looked at it more closely. Today, this mother's day of 2013, would have been this lady's 77th birthday. I thought that it was neat that I had noticed this, and then further realized that she had been born 10 days before me, back in 1936. We were contemporaries for a time, although neither of us knew that fact or knew each other. Knowing that this was an African-American cemetery let me know that our lives, although lived in the same time frame, would have, in all probability, been completely different.
Then came the questions: What was her life? Why did she die at 42? How had she lived and what had she done in that life span? Would she have celebrated this day as a mother? Were her relatives still living in the area?
Then I thought, "why did God take her at age 42, back in 1978, and leave me here?" Why was I led to her gravesite this morning, and could there be a significance to this discovery?
I'll have to ponder this for awhile, but it made this a special day for me, and I'm not even a mother.
Makes me look forward to see what Father's Day might bring.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
3 Ladies
On this Mother's Day of 2013, as I think of Mothers in general and those in my life as well, I have much to be thankful for.
My mother, who passed away in 1995, was a great Mom who raised her 3 boys well, and who set an example for mothers everywhere.
My wife, who is the mother of our 3 children, has been at my side for almost 55 years, and who has poured her life into her kids, grand kids and, most of all, her appreciative husband.
But while we are thinking in terms of the number 3, I want to pay tribute this morning to 3 ladies who have affected our family life in a very positive way. I am thinking of the 3 mothers that raise our grand children.
Our daughter Donna and our daughters-in-law, Karen and Dawn.
They have all raised good children, the oldest of which will be a junior in college this fall, and instilled in them a value system that will affect all they touch in the future. I know there have been challenges, but they have been there for their kids and have taken the time to support them in all that they do. Most of all they have loved them for who they are.
Have they raised 7 perfect kids? Hardly, and they know it as well as I, but they have modeled parenthood for them, and that one fact alone will help carry them on into the next generation.
Thank you ladies, for all you do to make our family tree worth celebrating today.
Thank You God for giving them to all the rest of us.
My mother, who passed away in 1995, was a great Mom who raised her 3 boys well, and who set an example for mothers everywhere.
My wife, who is the mother of our 3 children, has been at my side for almost 55 years, and who has poured her life into her kids, grand kids and, most of all, her appreciative husband.
But while we are thinking in terms of the number 3, I want to pay tribute this morning to 3 ladies who have affected our family life in a very positive way. I am thinking of the 3 mothers that raise our grand children.
Our daughter Donna and our daughters-in-law, Karen and Dawn.
They have all raised good children, the oldest of which will be a junior in college this fall, and instilled in them a value system that will affect all they touch in the future. I know there have been challenges, but they have been there for their kids and have taken the time to support them in all that they do. Most of all they have loved them for who they are.
Have they raised 7 perfect kids? Hardly, and they know it as well as I, but they have modeled parenthood for them, and that one fact alone will help carry them on into the next generation.
Thank you ladies, for all you do to make our family tree worth celebrating today.
Thank You God for giving them to all the rest of us.
Saturday, May 11, 2013
What About Those Others?
My life was filled with golf yesterday. When you leave the condo at 7:20 in the morning, drive to the course, play 18 holes, have a snack for lunch and then drive home, you have consumed close to 5 hours. Then if you turn on the TV later in the afternoon and watch the Player's Championship for another couple of hours, golf has been your day, almost your complete day.
This morning my thoughts turned again toward that golf tournament, but in a little different vein. I looked at the leaderboard to see who had made the cut and who had failed. I noted that there were 60+ golfers, good golfers, who had not played well enough to land above the cut line. I thought about those men, who had played for a couple of days, but who would not be on the course on Saturday or Sunday.
What did they do when they got up this morning?
We know most of the names of the leading players from the first two days:
But how about the stories of the ones at the bottom?
How do these guys feel about the first two days?
I have worked our local PGA event here on the Island for the past three years and have walked around with several professional golfers whose identities are not household names. I have watched their games and their attitudes and demeanor and their ball-striking ability, and I know these guys are good, real good. I notice that the man who won the tournament here last October, Tommy Gainey, was among those who did not do that well over these past few days down in Florida.
We tend to look at the headlines and see who is doing well at any given time. We know the names of those who win and who get the big bucks. But what of the others?
Does God care about who wins and who does not at these tournaments? I'm sure that it all figures into the big picture somewhere, but I do know that He cares for each one of those men on that leaderboard and all those who strive to have their names on that someday, no matter what the order of their finish.
I can only hope that those who did not make the cut in this particular tournament will get up this morning, pick up their Bibles, read and pray and ask God what is next for them, even in this day. There can be a multitude of possible answers to this prayer, for me as well as for them, and the answer does not have to revolve around golf. Our identity is more than a game, it consists more of who God has called us to be.
And that is the good news for everyone, even those guys who got cut yesterday.
Embrace it.
This morning my thoughts turned again toward that golf tournament, but in a little different vein. I looked at the leaderboard to see who had made the cut and who had failed. I noted that there were 60+ golfers, good golfers, who had not played well enough to land above the cut line. I thought about those men, who had played for a couple of days, but who would not be on the course on Saturday or Sunday.
What did they do when they got up this morning?
We know most of the names of the leading players from the first two days:
| 1 | 5 |  | Sergio Garcia | -11 | 2:40pm | color | info | 68 | 65 | 133 | ||||
 | 2 | 1 |  | Tiger Woods | -10 | 2:40pm | color | info | 67 | 67 | 134 | ||||
| T3 | 49 | | Kevin Chappell | -9 | 2:30pm | color | info | 69 | 66 | 135 | ||||
| T3 | 24 |  | Lee Westwood | -9 | 2:30pm | color | info | 69 | 66 | 135 | ||||
But how about the stories of the ones at the bottom?
| CUT | 36 | | Derek Ernst | color | 74 | 81 | 155 |
| CUT | 123 | | Tommy Gainey | color | 75 | 80 | 155 |
| CUT | 67 | | John Rollins | color | 77 | 79 | 156 |
How do these guys feel about the first two days?
I have worked our local PGA event here on the Island for the past three years and have walked around with several professional golfers whose identities are not household names. I have watched their games and their attitudes and demeanor and their ball-striking ability, and I know these guys are good, real good. I notice that the man who won the tournament here last October, Tommy Gainey, was among those who did not do that well over these past few days down in Florida.
We tend to look at the headlines and see who is doing well at any given time. We know the names of those who win and who get the big bucks. But what of the others?
Does God care about who wins and who does not at these tournaments? I'm sure that it all figures into the big picture somewhere, but I do know that He cares for each one of those men on that leaderboard and all those who strive to have their names on that someday, no matter what the order of their finish.
I can only hope that those who did not make the cut in this particular tournament will get up this morning, pick up their Bibles, read and pray and ask God what is next for them, even in this day. There can be a multitude of possible answers to this prayer, for me as well as for them, and the answer does not have to revolve around golf. Our identity is more than a game, it consists more of who God has called us to be.
And that is the good news for everyone, even those guys who got cut yesterday.
Embrace it.
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