A Blank Slate..What to Do?

   What do I do now?

   Here is my calendar for September 2015. What do I see?

   A total blank month stares back at me. A month with no appointments. A month with nothing to look forward to or to dread.

   Could it be a month of "One Day at a Time"? A series of days with no agenda, just waiting to see what God might put in my path. Days to be ready to serve but without knowing when or where or even how?

   A blank day seems to say "look at me, I can be filled with productive things or time wasters, it is your choice. You can be a helper or selfish."

   September was planned to be a trip month. Seeing new things, seeing old friends and family, but it was not to be. The month's scheduled appointments were pushed forward to October, and all was ready for whatever the open road presented.

   But the open road had a detour sign on it.

   What will I remember when it comes to the end of the month?

   Maybe I should keep a daily journal of all the items that took my time this month. If I knew that I would be looking back at it, perhaps I would not fill it with trivial stuff.

   September begins tomorrow.

   My last day of August prayer is that God will help me to use my new eyes to see some things that should characterize the days of the new month, and usher me into the rest of my life.

   Things that will help and not hinder, bless and not curse, love and be loved.

   And, with God's help, live each day with Him and for Him.
 

 

Today's Living

   How does my attitude each day, depend on how I look at tomorrow and the days that come after?

   I got a sobering look at that question these past couple of days, and, frankly, did not really like what I saw.

   First of all, it seems like there may be at least three ways to approach the future as I live in today.

   1. I can dread what I think is coming and constantly worry about what might be.

   2. I can look forward to future days and plan and dream about what will happen.

   3. I can take each day as it comes and live in it.

   There is that old gospel song:

   I have thought about, tried to live in its thought, and even written about the wisdom of it back through the years. Living each day with purpose and taking what God has for me in it, as He wants, seems a great way to live in the moment.

   But it is hard, not looking back at what we regret in the past or even glorying in past happinesses, or looking forward with anticipation and/or dread, conjuring up images of great joy or doom. Living in the NOW is a catchy slogan, but not easy to do.

   For a few weeks now, we have been working on a trip west to see friends and family. I was doing a lot of planning of how to drive it and see sights along the way. It is a long way from the Atlantic to the Pacific, but we thought we could do it and have fun along the way.

   Then other considerations got involved, and we waffled each day on whether or not we should go or not. One day it seemed good, and we agreed that it was a go, the next, potential problems loomed and the decision was in doubt.

   I found my mood altered by which scenario was prominent that particular day. My planning, and the good times those plans anticipated seemed about to go under, and I was disappointed. My mood was good if it was a go, and bad if it looked doubtful.

   Looking forward to the good times ahead became the focal point of each day, and when they seemed doubtful, the day got dark.

   Good day or bad depended on what we were going to do, and how much I looked forward to it.

   I was conscious of living in the now, but that "now" consisted of my plans for the future, and my mood and attitude reflected those.

   It has been said that we all need to have something good to look forward to. We are happy and our moods reflect that, but when those anticipations vanish, disappointments can prevail, and we are sad and gloomy.

   That is the way that I found myself this week.

   And then I thought of that song.

   God was in control…

   It had been "my plans", "my happiness", "my control", Not His.

   How about joyful anticipation about what He will bring today, and the todays in the future?

   How about a grateful attitude and not a selfish one?

   How about living today with Him?

Reading Life's Directions, Help

   As I sat down to read this morning, my first thought was "Uh, Oh, my reading glasses are on the top of my dresser in the bedroom, and my wife is still asleep. What do I do now?"

   Knowing some of the web pages can be adjusted to make them easier to read, I opened my laptop and went to an online devotional site. At that point I read this:

When I am searching for insight from Him, when I need direction, or an answer I will ask Him to increase the font in my life. Just like when there is print too small to decipher, I may need Him to increase the font so I can clearly read the situation (or myself) better.

   That was the answer. My prayer in any of the life decisions and choices that I might face this day, or that weigh on my mind at this time, I need to ask for God's help, maybe like this.

   Since I had both eyes worked on, I don't wear my glasses much anymore, but while I am still working through the various eye drops and situations they cause, sometimes the print is much too small to read. 

   When using the computer, I can use the two finger method on the web page and increase the page size, but some of those eye drop vials carry words that are way too small, and I can't raise the font level or make it bigger in another way.

   There are just so many decisions in life that I need help on, supernatural help.

   I can't read. The print is too small. Life's directions are blurry.

   God, help me…Increase the font size so I can be a better follower and stay on the right track, with You.

   Like This…

       Or Maybe Like This…

   But in My Case, More Probably Like This...

Empty Can, Droopy Straw...

   Yesterday was a busy day.

   I had my right eye operated on in the early morning, 7:45 to be exact. Same scenario as the left one the week before, in, drops in the eyes, feel good injection (anesthesiologist's term) in the vein, operating room, help into the waiting car for the ride home.

   My memory of all that runs the same way. I remember pretty well everything up to the operating room, and I remember getting home, but the rest of it is gone.

   Dr. Bill, the anesthesiologist, and I had a running conversation about the old Mid South Assn., which was an association of private schools in and around Chattanooga that competed in many sports. Since I went to McCallie and he went to BGA (Battle Ground Academy) we went back into our memories to conjure up the other schools that competed in that group.

   We remembered the two Chattanooga schools, Baylor and McCallie, BGA, CMA, Castle Heights, Sewanee, St. Andrews, and TMI. We talked until I was wheeled in for the operation. I don't remember if there was any more talk after that, although I'm sure he kept tabs on the operation and the recovery period afterward.

   After coming home, taking a long nap, getting food in my stomach, and moving about, I went down to the car in the garage to get something for my wife. As I looked in the passenger side, my eye caught a glimpse of a coke can with a straw sticking out the top. I remembered that I had requested one in the recovery room after the first eye was done the prior week. Had I gotten another one and had not remembered it at all?

   In the first trip out of the operating room, the nurse asked me what I would like to have to drink. I requested a coke, and it was brought. I carried the can with me as Dwayne drove us home. In fact I remember pitching the can in the recyle bin when we got back to the condo.

   Had all of this happened again, and I missed it? The only thing in my memory from the hospital to the condo was telling my friend (who had volunteered to drive us) which spot to park in. What vital secrets had I passed on our 20 minute drive home?

   It appears that Dr. Brooks operated on my right eye, they wheeled me out to the post op room, the nurse had again asked what I wanted to drink, I had replied, it was brought to me, they got me up, walked me through the waiting room to the car, got me situated, gave me the coke to sip on, closed the door, and I was transported to the condo.

   Not even a fuzzy memory comes back from any of this. Evidently I lived this hour plus time, but you could not prove it by me.

   The only thing that was left was an empty coke can with a droopy straw.

   I wonder if I finished that conversation with Dr. Bill?

Thinking About Trust

   This verse out of Isaiah 25 was in the reading this morning:

“Surely this is our God;
    we trusted in him, and he saved us.
This is the Lord, we trusted in him;
    let us rejoice and be glad in his salvation.”

   I thought about my experience this past week, and how it was so trust related.

   On Wednesday, I had cataract surgery on my left eye. Now eyes are important to life and being able to see clearly is a really good thing. The advances in the medical practice of  restoring good eyesight have been enormous over the past few years. I did not think twice about having the procedure done. I trusted my doctor, and just knew she would do a good job.

   Report to the surgery center at 9:30, check in and follow the nurse back to the pre op room, drops in the eye to numb it and get it ready, get the anesthesia in the vein, get wheeled back to the operating room, stay awake during the whole thing without really knowing or feeling what was going on, back to the post op, realizing what had been done, being escorted to the car, going home and arriving before the thoughts began to connect as to what had been accomplished.

   The strangest thing was realizing all the things that had gone on around me, while I was technically awake with my eye open, but that I had not known. All the way from the surgery, to following instructions from the doctor as to where to look during it, to the eye shield being put on and being rolled out after it was over.

   There were a lot of folks that I had to put my trust in, from the doctor on down to the nurse that took me out to the car to go home. My eye was in their hands.

   How good was it that my doctor put her trust in the same God that I did?

   Her hands were in His the whole time.

   All is well...

Change and Stability

   Heraclitus of Ephesus is supposed to have coined the saying that the only thing constant is change. Now I have been to Ephesus and can attest to the fact that that ancient city has surely changed since Heraclitus lived there.

   As I get older, all around me I see change. In people, in attitudes, in surroundings and even in myself. We live with it every day, in fact, seemingly in every minute of every day.

   My kids are all in their 40s and 50s. They have sure changed and continue to do so.

   My wife changes as she continues to battle some health issues.

   I'm definitely not as spry as I used to be.

   The good ole USA is changing, even as we live in the midst of it.

   Change can be good or bad, according to your perspective, and your personal attitudes regarding the facts of it.

   Wednesday, I had cataract surgery. A fifteen minute procedure produced a left eye that can really see a lot of stuff in a new way, without glasses. What a change, and I'm happy about change.

   When change is good, in our view, we can embrace it.

   When it is bad, as we see it, we can rail against it or be depressed about it.

   Is there no absolute middle ground that we can stand on and find some stability?

   The reading in Our Daily Bread for today, focuses on the verse in Hebrews 13 (verse 8):

   "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever."

   There is ground around me that is not always shifting and always constant.

   God can be the author of change and the answer to it at the same time, and that is worth holding on to today in our world.

   Embrace today's in His Hands.

 

One Simple Rule...

   Once upon a time, a well respected and successful CPA was interviewed by a leading business magazine. The inevitable question was posed by the interviewer as to the reason for his many successes and his sterling track record of achievements.

   Spurning a verbal reply, the accountant pulled open his middle desk drawer, to the inside of which was taped this one small card:

   "I remind my self each and every morning of this one simple rule", he said
   
      "Debits on the left and Credits on the right".

   As I walked this morning I thought of some people that I knew:

      A man I sat and talked to last Sunday at church who was separated from his kids..

      A woman that had just lost her husband..

      A man who was looking forward to a trip and had to cancel..

   Then I thought of two other instances that I had heard of just recently from friends..

      "yours scans are clear, cancer is not evident in them at all"

      "we have a match, and you are scheduled for a transplant this morning"

   Yes, there seems to be a simple rule in life also:

      God is in Control

   That short four word sentence can come in the midst of the ashes of life and also in the unexpected joys.

   And, just as that accounting rule is true, so much more so is God's.

   Open up your heart, get out your index card and tape.

   And Remember:

   His Ways Are Better, and His Ways Are For The Best

   And I'll attempt to do the same.



 

This Man Could Be Right

   Like a lot of other people, I watched most of the Republican debate from Cleveland on Thursday night. I wanted to see the candidates, hear what they were passionate about and catch the interaction between the persons at the podium. I even caught some of the early debate.

   My politics fall on the conservative side of most issues. While I have voted for candidates that have the (D) beside their names on the ballot, in national elections the (R) men and women seem to hold values closer to mine.

   That disclaimer aside, I just want to say that the man that impressed me the most, in spite of his just making the top 10, was Ohio Governor, John Kasich, and I think it was his "unconditional love" moment that moved me the most. Google that if you have not heard the sound bite in its entirely.

   The Governor gave that short statement in regards to a question from the moderator on the subject of Gay Marriage. The question referred to how he would feel if he had a child who was gay or lesbian. Would he love them?

   Without hesitation, "Of Course"..

   The rationale he put forth would not only include his kids and family, it would take into account those friends and others that God had put in his path. His comment was:

   “God gives me unconditional love. I’m going to give it to my family and my friends and the people around me.”

   When I read his book, Every Other Monday, I picked up on this theme, his caring about people, starting with his family and continuing to those who needed what he might be able to give.

   His is a breath of fresh air in the political arena. I know he has been in politics for a while now, but he appears not to let any self-importance take center stage in his life. He seems grounded in his faith, and that faith comes out in the way he speaks and the way he governs.

   His is an uphill climb to the Republican nomination for President, but I like his style and substance, and I think he brings a new dimension to the race. The country could do far worse. His voice of civility is needed, and perhaps Washington could work again.

   Shirley Jones sings a song in The Music Man about the kind of man she could love:

   "a plain man,
     a simple man,
     a straightforward and honest man…
     one more interested in me than in himself
     and more interested in us than in me"

   We need a leader to be interested in us, all of us...

Five Peas in My Hands...

   Sitting on my couch this morning before going out to walk, I took a moment to pray for the day and for guidance in it, whatever it might bring.

   As I finished and opened my eyes, I looked down and my hands were open by my side. Just a position of supplication, I guess. I did not think I had consciously done it.

   Then when I returned from the early outside, this was in the reading from Our Daily Bread:

"Father, I’m grateful that in all of life Your purposes are being accomplished. May I learn to have open hands—to accept whatever You give to me and whatever You take from me. Help me to trust Your heart."

   Open hands:

   A symbol of "Thy Will Be Done"

   I open my hands to receive what God wants me to have.

   I open my hands to show that what I want to grasp and hang on to may not be the best for me.

   I leave it up to God to give or take away.

   Five "P" words come to mind. Things that I want to hold on to, but may need to be let go of. I didn't ask for all these thoughts to begin with the same letter, but this is what came:

     Plans: my plans for today or next week or farther out in the future. They may be good in my eyes but not the best as seen from God's eternal viewpoint. I need to plan, but don't need to hold them so tightly.

     Purposes: Why do I do what I do, or plan what I plan? My purposes need to be subject to a higher calling than my own will. I need to be willing to let them go or willing to change them.

     People: Folks in my life are important, to me and to God. But I have to give up trying to manipulate the circumstances surrounding them and my interactions with them. My thoughts about them and for them can stem from my selfish desires for all concerned, but mostly me.

     Possessions: I like what I have. It brings security and happiness, I think. I not only want to hang on, I want to add to. God owns everything, and whatever I hold in my hot little hands is just on loan.

     Playthings: Toys are important, I think. They bring joy, I think. They are mine, I think. They may even define my life. Then a thought creeps in "get a life".

   I want to add to the prayer above:

     Father, help me to get a real life, one that pleases you and benefits others and myself. Help me to uncurl my fingers from around "my" things and my desires.

   Help me to Trust You,

   Amen

August 4, 1909..My Dad's Birthday and Legacy

   One Hundred and six years ago on this date, my Dad was born. He passed away in 1993 at the age of 84.

   As I realized what today was, I started trying to remember things from my life. My memories of my dad are varied, and I do not know exactly why these are the things that come to my mind. Perhaps a psychiatrist would have a field day dissecting these thoughts, but I won't worry about that right now.

   The first thing I thought of was going out on the front porch of our home at 207 Tunnel Blvd, maybe going to school, I don't know, but there was a trail of blood drops across the porch and leading into the house. It is funny how I can still see that scene.

   My dad worked for a local chain grocery store, Red Food Stores. He was the produce buyer, and his early morning job was going to the Chattanooga farmer's market to buy fruits and vegetables for his stores. Area farmers would bring their crops into the market early in the morning each day of the week, I think except for Sunday, and he would buy and get the product into his stores for that day's sales.

   If I remember, he would go out around 4am, in the company truck to buy, load and deliver to the warehouse, those products that were needed. He had to back down our drive, left hand on the driver's door frame, door open, looking to the rear, to see where he was going.

   The driveway was lined with pine trees.

   On this particular morning, he got too close to the tree with his door, and hand, and smashed his fingers into the tree with the door. I remember those blood drops, but I did not see him that morning. Seems like he came in, bandaged them up, and went on to work. His responsibility to his company was to get the job done, and he did just that.

   When I was 10 years old, he left Red Food to start up his own produce brokerage firm. He had to keep up his early morning hours, so it was manual labor in the early morning, receiving produce from out of town sources, and shipping it out to his customers, then the office work of selling and buying, with occasional manual work during the day to get the job done. He had one man who oversaw the outside work, and one lady who ran the office, but he was hands on.

   A produce broker was a middleman, a person who brought buyers and sellers together to move product from field to table. He had to know, and have the respect of both producers and consumers in order to get the job done. He had to know the product, know reputable shippers, arrange transportation on rail or truck, find out what his customers needed, bring the two sides together and get the product to market.

   It was a complicated arrangement and it was all done on the phone, by word of mouth. There were no contracts to sign for purchase. It was all built on trust.

   In order to service a small market like Chattanooga was then, my dad's customers ranged from the local chain store, to the local co-op, to wholesalers who serviced restaurants and small stores. His job was to make pool shipments out of their orders, buy the product from shippers, collect the monies, and remit to the producers. All of this without contracts, just a verbal handshake.

   His word was indeed his bond. He was known in the industry, in fact in all his life's dealings, as a man of integrity and honesty. The produce industry watchdog was the Blue Book, where every firm was given a rating, from one to four stars, according to the way their shippers and customers accessed their reliability. I remember his pride when his company was awarded the four stars, and he was accorded Trading Membership by that service. This was probably his proudest day in business.

   I remember when he hurt his knee playing tackle football with me in the side yard of our house. I think that was the last time for that.

   I remember him being a fair dad, but a disciplinarian none the less. I remember my last spanking, with his belt, when I decided to grow up and not cry. That was the finale of capital punishment. I do not ever remember a punishment that I did not deserve, or one meted out in anger.

   I remember his church work and his insistence on always tithing his income.

   I remember his competitiveness in horseshoes and badminton. It was a fun time with family and friends, but he played to win.

   I remember his generosity both to God and to others. God had first claim on his assets, but he did not shirk from loaning to those who needed it also, sometimes to the consternation of my mom.

   I remember his love of family; his wife, his children and his grandchildren, and his pride in each.

   I'm sure there are lots more things that may come to my mind as I go through this day, but maybe that is a post for another day.

   My memory may be incomplete and a bit hazy, but I know that there are far less things than being remembered for a life of honesty and caring like his.

   Thanks for that legacy, Dad

   I love you

Just Asking...

   Yesterday our pastor gave a message from James, Chapter 5, beginning with verse 1. The passage goes on into verse 5, where James talks about:

"You have lived on earth in luxury and self-indulgence. "

   There are always  questions on my heart when I read what the Bible says about the use of wealth, and hoarding, and giving.

   How much is enough to have for the future?

   How self-indulgent am I?

   What does God see in my life and in my checkbook?

   Two things happened later on Sunday that I was reminded of this morning.

   1. Leaving the service yesterday, I ran into a friend and his comment on the sermon was "bad timing on my part". I questioned what he was talking about, in reference to the message, and he continued with "I bought a boat yesterday". Then it was obvious, the message got him, too.

   2. Last evening, as I was working on some pictures of the other day at sunset, this one jumped out, and I realized just why. There was that boat analogy again.

   Even though the message spoke to me, I had quickly put it aside to feature the situation of another. I was not judging him for buying a boat, just thinking about what he had said about the timing of the purchase and the message of James 5.

   The pastor asked two questions before the message:

   1. How many of you know someone who is rich?

   2. How many of you would say that you are rich?

   Almost all the hands went up on the first one and none on the second.

   Most of us classify someone as being rich as one who has quite a bit more than we do. In relation to the world at large, we are all rich, way up in the top 5% at least.

   And how am I using all that I have been given?

   What are my spending priorities?

   And importantly, what does God think?

   "We have met the enemy and he is us."

Peace

   A couple of the things I read this morning had to do with the concept of peace.

   My thoughts turned to times when, out to take some pictures, I stumbled upon a peaceful scene.

   I thought of the time in the early morning one fine day, I walked into the town of Mt. Dora, FL. It was early. It was still dark and the town had not yet awoken.

   It was just me and my camera as I walked the little main street. Visitors had not yet gotten out of bed. The stores were closed. It was quiet. It was peaceful.

   As I walked and shot and walked some more, I came upon this little sign on a fence by the road, and I took the picture.

   And I thought this morning, that my life is so often about what others are going to think, or what they already think, or what I worry about the perception of me that they see and think they know.

   But isn't it really what God thinks and knows that really matters.

   And true peace comes from Him.

   And I am blessed to be reminded, again...