Five Minute Friday — Speak

Posted on August 18, 2017 by wisdomfromafather

It’s time for Five Minute Friday, the weekly timed keyword-themed writing challenge hosted by Kate Motaung. Her words — and those of the others who congregate around the virtual table to share — are on Facebook at  http://www.fiveminutefriday.com. I encourage you to read them … and participate in the often challenging exercise.

I’ve been sharing snippets taken from Five Minute Friday: A Collection of Stories Written in Five Minutes Flat. They are a testament to the value of the exercise. This week, I’ll share some perspective from Tammy, who I hope inspires you to check us out or, better yet, encourage you to try your hand at focused, unscripted writing for just five minutes. And share it on Kate’s website.

“I joined the FMF community in 2015 and am amazed at the depth of relationships I have built! Seeing the same people’s posts every week and reciprocating reading and commenting has encouraged my writing. The Twitter party on Thursdays has also become a joy!”

The word this week is SPEAK. The clock is started, so let’s GO …

I’m fortunate to have been chosen to be born in the United States, a place where I can speak freely. Or at least that’s what our founding fathers reasoned.

Free speech, however, means we have additional responsibility. I think it’s more important to speak in love. Unfortunately, there is too much hate and division prevalent these days, so it becomes even more incumbent on us to think before we speak and then, and only then, speak with love.

That’s a maxim good not only here in the USA, but around the globe. There are too many people spewing hateful, often untruthful words meant to tear others down. I respect their right — however disgusting their message may be — to speak, but I don’t have to respond with equally derisive speech. Two wrongs never make a right.

We Christians have an even more important mandate. Not only should we be speaking in love, but we should be adding the Truth. We know what that truth is, although with so many “religions” and “thoughts” on true faith, it’s often hard to approach a conversation without the “I’m right, you’re wrong” bias. Truth — that’s with a capital T — is having an open mind, open to see where others are coming from, why they believe as they believe. It’s having a mindset that embraces dialog, not shuts down when a view is presented that’s slightly or sometime even outright opposite ours. If we can let those opposing views be heard, we can speak to the issues. After that, it’s not up to us to persuade. It’s up to the Holy Spirit. We’re just a conduit for the Truth of God.

I know it’s hard. It’s extremely hard. … STOP

… I’ve experienced it. You’ve experienced it. Jesus experienced it. He listened to the alt-rights and alt-lefts of His day. He addressed them, often in parables they could understand. He was martyred for His effort. But guess what, that bloody sacrifice saved you and me. And it was for those who opposed Him as well, if only they would have listened to His speech . And when He walked out of that grave He spoke volumes and assured us our temporary life on earth is a mere speck in eternity.

Our speech should reflect our beliefs. We all have stories to tell illustrating how we came to Jesus and how God touched us in both good times and bad times, at the mountaintops and in the valleys.

Speak your story. Let your voice be heard … always shared in love.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Value the ones around you, for it is they who will make or break you.

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Is It Nap Time?

Posted on August 17, 2017 by wisdomfromafather

Last night, I slept like a rock … until just after 4 this morning. Now, waking up in the middle night is not unusual. However, I generally go back to bed and within minutes, I’m back in la-la land.

Not this morning.

I remember waking up after a dream {again not unusual} where I was an active participant {somewhat unusual}. I don’t remember the specifics but it must have woken up my mental neurons as well. They wouldn’t stop rattling around in my brain. Even the soothing music for sleeping track failed at its job.

I “watched” the daylight rise through closed but not sleepy eyes. My mind started wandering. I heard another day coming to life — like the redemption center loading its recyclables from across the river, traffic steadily increasing, even a stray ambulance wail. As I tossed and turned, I checked on pesky Pete {Angelina} who almost always wakes up — and wakes me up — at dawn’s early light. She was curled in a little ball at the foot of the bed.

My mind started racing as well, with important topics like why there are pigeons in sleepy {except for me} Dover-Foxcroft … why the president is being attacked for stating the obvious, both sides can share some blame in Charlottesville {I guess that makes me a racist, but you don’t “peacefully” protest with bats and flame-throwers} … why we can’t hate the sin and love the sinner … why we’re not talking anymore but espousing an “I’m right, you’re wrong” mentality. Then I started mentally “writing” at least three different blogs and crafting a response for a business plan my eldest is proposing. Finally, around 6:30, Angelina decided it was time to get up.

As I was walking Angelina it struck me this wasn’t the first time I couldn’t get back to sleep. It’s happened the past two Thursdays as well. Last week, I headed for the computer to catch up on things, took Angelina out and went back to bed.

But it’s strange. In my previous working life, Tuesday was production night, often stretching into the wee hours of Wednesday morning. Wednesday night, however, meant early to bed and a full night’s sleep. Now that I’m retired, there is no production night. I generally get to bed about the same time each night. I don’t need a “catch up” night.

Only problem is my mind never got the memo.

Is it nap time yet?

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: My job as a disciple of Jesus isn’t to figure out some cosmic jigsaw puzzle called God’s Will. My job is to get good at listening to and responding to my Shepherd’s voice; to be a God’s Will person.

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Words for the Week

Posted on August 14, 2017 by wisdomfromafather

If you do build a great experience, customers tell each other about that. Word of mouth is very powerful. –- Jeff Bezos, CEO, Amazon

As many of you know, I send out a weekly Words for the Week to family and friends. It started as a way to spend time praying for my family, friends and faith partners and share with them some nugget of encouragement for the week. Sometimes it’s a sentence. Sometimes a paragraph. Sometimes a story.  I’ve discovered each one had a special meaning to some one at some time. The message just resonated with them at just the time they needed it most. I never know who until after the fact.

And sometimes, the message is for me.

As I started sending out the message this morning, I couldn’t figure out why I was attracted to this statement. Most of my family and friends are not in retail or service where customer feedback is essential. As I got closer to the end of my list, I realized the key phrase wasn’t in its entirety or its beginning. It was the end sentence. Word of mouth is very powerful.

That isn’t just a business truth … it’s a life truth. What we say, what we endorse, what we share is very powerful. And if people trust us, it becomes even more powerful.

That’s why we have to be on our guard with what we say and how we say it. But it also emboldens us to share our stories within our sphere of influence. Our stories might contain the nugget someone needs to move forward or give them (hopefully) encouragement when it’s in short supply in their lives, to affirm them, sometimes even maybe to caution them.

When I first started this mission, it basically was to lift up my wife daily. It expanded to family, then friends, then faith partners. Daily I send them a message and cartoon. Weekly it’s generally a little deeper and more time-consuming because it’s not just a message, but a prayer for them, asking God to meet them where they need Him most.

When I started my “words for the week” way back yonder, it wasn’t to get anything back. It was just a way to pray for my family and friends and give them a little encouragement. And the ministry has grown over the years, from five to 10 to around 25 and now hovering close to 100. And they do give me feedback, telling me when the message was just “right.” It started with a simple e-mail and now includes Messenger. Now we have Facebook, Instagram and more technologies I’m not even aware of to share our words and experiences. Word of mouth is very powerful.

My “words” experience also was a key impetus for starting this blog, 680 posts back over the past almost five years. I hoped — and hope — to give a little encouragement as we journey through life.  And I am always amazed when my new audience gives me feedback, telling me when the message is just “right.”

You can do it too. We all have a story to tell. Share something of importance and uplifting to you with your family. Put the words in the hands of the Lord and let Him guide you and bless them. Watch in awe as your small circle ripples. Word of mouth is very powerful.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: When you feel like life has knocked you around and pushed you down to your knees, you are in the perfect position to PRAY!!!

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WWJD? WWYD?

Posted on August 13, 2017 by wisdomfromafather

Following the tradition of posting my homilies, here is what I shared this morning at Dover-Foxcroft (ME) United Methodist Church. I’ll be filling in again Aug. 27 … so please keep me in your prayers.

May these words of my mouth and this meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer.

I want to do some visualization this morning, so sit back and relax. You can close your eyes but only if you promise not to fall asleep.

Ready?

The setting is a little hospital chapel. The chaplain is behind the pulpit delivering his sermon. There are a few doctors and nurses and a couple of people from the community in the congregation. And there is a woman with three small children under the age of five.

Since it’s a chapel, there are no tables for the two and four year old and since this is in the dark ages — early 80s — there were no tablets to keep the children entertained.

The two and four year old were on their knees, backs to the preacher, coloring on pieces of construction paper in the pew. Whenever the two year old needed a different color, he would get up, go to the next pew, go through it, get the crayon and reverse himself. Of course, he did this as quietly as a two year old could be … and it seemed he needed a different color just about 10 seconds.

After a couple minutes of this shuffling, the four year old girl started to get annoyed … especially when the two year old wanted the exact shade of red the four year old was using. With a chorus of “I’m using it now!” and “But I want that color” their little voices got louder and louder. Mom, rocking the newborn, tried to hush the other two, but their actions started riling the sleeping infant who started with a small whimper that evolved into a cry.

The padre had had enough. He scolded the woman. “Can’t you control your children? They’re disrupting my sermon!”

The exasperated woman, with tears in her eyes, stood up and grabbed the children. As she walked out of that chapel, she turned to the priest and said, “I’m sorry, Father. I was just trying to be a good Catholic and go to Mass.”

WWJD

I’ll get back to that in a sec. The more important question is, WWYD, What would you do?

The story, unfortunately, is real. I was there. And I can tell you what I and my fellow Mass attendees did.

 

 

That’s right. Absolutely nothing. Nothing to help the woman. Nothing to help the children. No response to the priest. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

There were no souls saved that Sunday morning. There were a few, however, that may have been lost.

In my defense, I did react to the scene in my mind. I know what I should have done. I know what I wanted to do. But I just didn’t do it. I did nothing but watch a crying young mother leave the chapel with her three children.

What I was formulating in my mind was helping the young woman by taking her out of the chapel before the rude comments by the chaplain. It was a hospital … a small, rural hospital which, on a busy week, had about 25% of its rooms occupied. I wanted to — no, I should have taken her into the hall, flagged down a nurse and brought her to a vacant room where she could watch the service on closed circuit television while giving the two and four year a little space. I wanted to — no, I should have colored with the youngsters and kept them occupied with a story or two. That’s what I wanted to do. That’s what I should have done.

Instead. I did nothing but sit in my pew as a silent witness to a religious meltdown. I couldn’t listen to the chaplain or his sermon. My mind kept racing back to the woman.

Now, that’s what I didn’t do. The question again is what would Jesus do in that situation?

I believe in my heart, my reasoning was in line with Jesus’ thinking and action. Yet I failed to deliver. At that moment in time I was a Pharisee. I was about as far away from being a Christian as I could be because I knew what should have been done, yet I did nothing.

So, again, what do you think Jesus would have done?

In truth, I honestly don’t know what Jesus would have done in that situation. I don’t think he would have rebuked the woman had He been the preacher. I think He would have somehow helped the woman either directly or indirectly. I could see Him putting the children on His lap to settle them down.

Those are pictures painted in Scripture. The problem is pictures aren’t real life. We don’t act with parables. We act with action.

And truth be known, we know very little about Jesus. Sure, we have the Gospels and Epistles (letters) which give us a glimpse into this man/god we call Jesus. But what do we know of Him?

It has been claimed women speak about 20,000 words a day, about 13,000 more than men. Yet, according to Swordsearcher, a bible study research tool, we have about 2,026 words actually spoken by Jesus … in more than three years of public ministry! That’s more than three times less than an average day for us men and about a tenth of what women say.

That’s not a heck of a lot to go on.

That makes the words and actions contained in our modern day Scripture so valuable. We savor every word. We, like Luke, our current guide, seek answers. We should research and make it a point to verify the accounts that have been passed down. We believe the four canonical gospels to be the cornerstone of God’s revelation to us and central to our belief system. We preach and teach the four canonical gospels are an accurate and authoritative representation of the life of Jesus.

But we can also learn from the apocryphal, non-canonical, Jewish-Christian and gnostic gospels. While that is a higher level of theology than most of us want to get into, nonetheless, in some cases, those writings substantiate canonical writing. In other cases, they contradict traditional Scripture or veer off in directions we may not want to consider. While it isn’t important to know the details of these writings, it is important to recognize their existence and how they influenced our current canon. In some cases they give us a different perspective. In other cases, our present canon points out the heresy of the day and provides a homogeneous collection of thought.

The same can be said about oral tradition of the day and folklore — the preferred means of everyday communication in the days Jesus walked the earth.

I bring this up because the tradition of the day may have been the prompt for Luke’s inclusion of today’s parable about the rich man and Lazarus. As I said, a parable is a short, fictitious narrative designed to illuminate a spiritual truth, in this case the reality of heaven and hell. With its vivid journey to the afterlife, and its exaggerated imagery of contrast, this parable fits the form of an apocalypse parable. An apocalypse serves as a wake-up call, pulling back a curtain to open our eyes to something we urgently need to see before it is too late.

It is plausible Jesus — through Luke — is addressing the Pharisees who were known to talk the walk but not necessarily to walk the talk. They had a tendency to be ritualistic and, although not as bad as the upper class Sadducees, snobbish toward the poor and disadvantaged. In fact, Luke characterizes the Pharisees as “lovers of money” (16:14).

In the Lucan tradition, this is another of those reversal of fortunes texts pointing out material wealth doesn’t equate to eternal salvation.

Luke makes clear over and over the poor are a focus of Jesus’ ministry. In His inaugural sermon, Jesus declares He has been anointed by the Spirit of the Lord to bring good news to the poor (4:18; see also 7:22). Jesus admonishes His followers not just to invite to their parties the friends and neighbors who can repay them, but to extend their invitations to the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind (14:13). This is echoed when Jesus describes the kingdom of God as a wedding banquet where the invitation has been extended to the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind (14:21).

In a Scrooge-like way we get to see the two principals engaging after death, despite the fact the rich man had no part of the beggar Lazarus during life.

I suspect the rich man had a great funeral in which many dignitaries attended. Speaker after speaker probably related what a great, wonderful, religious man he was. He had to have been blessed by God because of all the wealth he enjoyed. I’m sure they reported he had gone on to his reward in heaven. But one split second after the rich man died, he got the strange feeling something wasn’t right. This wasn’t heaven.

In contrast, when the beggar Lazarus had died, it doesn’t say he was buried like the rich man. His body was probably dumped on some garbage pile. Yet Jesus said the angels escorted his soul into the presence of Abraham — heaven as it might have been understood at the time.

The first realization the rich man had was being able to look up and see this beggar in the bosom of Abraham. And he remembered all he did and didn’t do. And recognizing his fate in what we call hell today, the rich man realizes there is no hope for himself so his thoughts turn to his family. He had five brothers, and they were all like him, religious but lost. So he says in verse 27, I beg you, Father Abraham, send Lazarus to my house, for I have five brothers. Let him warn them, so that they will not also come to this place of torment. Suddenly, the rich man in hell becomes a wannabe soul winner. He develops a missionary spirit. He expresses a concern for the lost people in his family. It’s too bad he didn’t have that same fear of hell before he died!

The rich man rationalizes if Lazarus is allowed to go back and warn his brothers to stay away from hell, when they see a man from the grave warning them, he is certain they will repent.

I tend to agree with the analysis of David Dykes, who taught, “Imagine I’m not a Christian and somebody knocks on my door some evening. When I open the door, I’m shocked to see an old boy whose funeral I attended a few weeks earlier standing there. He says, ‘I’ve come to talk to you about Jesus, can I come in?’ After my initial shock I say, ‘Of corpse you can come in.’ The man begins to say, ‘I’ve just come back from heaven to especially warn you there is a hell because your older brother is there now. He asked me to come warn you not to come to that place. So if you will admit you are a sinner, turn from your sins and trust Jesus, you can be forgiven today. Would you like to bow your head right now and receive Christ?’”

Dr. Dykes concludes, “Something like that would literally scare the hell out of me — scare me out of hell.”

But Abraham said, “If they don’t believe God’s Word, they won’t believe if someone rises from the dead.”

Huh!? Not the response I would have expected.

If this parable is an apocalypse, then Luke is situating the audience – us – not so much in the role of either Lazarus or the rich man, but in the role of the five siblings who are still alive. The five siblings still have time to open their eyes. They have time to see the poor people at their gates before the chasm becomes permanent. Send Lazarus to them, that he might warn them, cries the rich man on behalf of his brothers, so that they do not come to this place of torment. The terrifyingly vivid apocalyptic journey to Hades awakens a sense of urgency on the part of Luke’s audience — you and me, right here, today.

In this story, God’s eternal judgment has everything to do with how we use wealth in this life and whether we attend to those less fortunate in our midst.

A few weeks after Jesus told this story to the Jews, He was crucified, buried but most of all resurrected — and some still scoffed and rejected Him. They still do today.

Like the rich man’s five brothers, we have been given all the warning we need. Will we see? Will we heed the warning, before it’s too late?

Let’s close by playing “what if” for a moment. It’s an exercise Dr. Dykes proposed to his congregation at Green Acres Baptist Church in Tyler, TX. What if God offered to let you spend 30 seconds in heaven or 30 seconds in hell today? Which would you choose? This is not forever; it’s just a 30 second visit. Which location do you think would make you a stronger, more mature follower of Christ? Seeing the glory and majesty of heaven would probably make you a stronger Christian, but would it give you a greater burden for lost people?

If God gave me that option, I would ask Him to let me spend those 30 seconds in hell. I know the Lord and I know I am going to spend eternity in heaven, but I think 30 seconds in hell would change me for the rest of my life. If I could see the agony and hear those voices, I think I would come back and be the most evangelistic Christian on earth. According to the parable, people in hell are concerned for lost people who are headed for hell. That’s something from hell we need to do … be concerned as well.

WWJD? WWYD?

And the people of God say … Amen!

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: When you look for the bad in mankind and expect to find it, you surely will. — Abraham Lincoln

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Five Minute Friday — Place

Posted on August 11, 2017 by wisdomfromafather

Happy Friday! Time for my Five Minute Friday contribution. Check out the amazing five minutes takes at Kate’s place on Facebook at  http://www.fiveminutefriday.com by our special community of writers.

I’ve been sharing snippets taken from Five Minute Friday: A Collection of Stories Written in Five Minutes Flat. They are a testament to the value of the exercise. This week, I’ll share some perspective from Angela who I hope inspires you to check us out or, better yet, try your hand at focused, unscripted writing for just five minutes. And share it on Kate’s website.

“When I felt stuck as a writer, Five Minute Fridays showed me that was only in my mind. Sometimes I wrote my FMF piece only in my journal, because the prompt brought out raw feelings I wasn’t ready yet to share. Still, it helped me find my words again when I wasn’t sure I had anything to say.”

The timer has been set for this week’s prompt, PLACE, so I guess it’s time to GO…

The prompt got me to thinking … why am I in this place, Dover-Foxcroft, ME? For that matter, why was I in Seneca County, NY? Or Washington, DC? Or Toledo, OH? Or Belvidere, IL; Or Newton, NJ; Or Ogdensburg, NJ? Or Paterson, NJ? Or East Paterson, NJ {now Elmwood Park}? Why was I in Manhattan College? How did I discover Dominican College of Blauvelt (NY)? How did I find all these places when my Dad rarely traveled more than 25 miles from his birthplace?

Places. Different places. Different times.

Certainly, my choices led me on the paths I took … or did they? Was there a greater plan I was part of?

I don’t have that answer. But I can say before settling in central Maine, I visited every corner of the Pine Tree State. Before I settled in Seneca County, I looked at communities throughout the Northeast. And the reasons why I was placed where I was placed just go on and on.

As I reflect back on each step along the journey, I realize I was placed where I was placed for one of three reasons … either to learn, to grow or to influence. That could be for good or bad, but it essentially comes down to that.

Over the years, I have been guided by an incredible cadre … STOP

… of mentors who were carefully placed in my world at just the right time and place. I’ve learned from their guidance — and my sometimes stupid mistakes. I grew from their example. I was influenced by those lessons and I’ve tried to reciprocate and be a good influence for my family, friends and neighbors. That’s what this blog is all about.

I don’t know why I’m in Dover-Foxcroft and not in China, ME, or Bryant Pond, ME, or Seaside Heights, NJ. I wasn’t placed there. I was placed here. It will be fun to look back and see why.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: You never know how strong you are… until being strong is the only choice you have. — Cayla Mills

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My Life with Angelina

Posted on August 10, 2017 by wisdomfromafather

As I carried the near-lifeless body of my Havenese Tess from the car to the vet’s office, I vowed never to get another dog. I can still see her eyes — the only thing working and alive — as we said our goodbyes.

Well, that was a few years ago in a different life. Not only didn’t I want another furry friend, I just plain didn’t have time for one.

Tess was a sweetheart. Actually, she was my wife’s dog, but somehow it was always my lap she found. After Karen died, she was my comfort, her soft silky fur absorbing many of my tears. She loved to travel and often beat me into my little red truck. She was my sidekick during my frequent trips to Maine, Ohio and New Jersey. So, when she died, I wasn’t up to another.

That was then. This is now.

A few weeks ago, I noticed a pup in the shelter’s “Pets in Need” section. Although not a Havenese, Angelina was a shih tzu with the same apricot coloring. Take away her always present tooth, the two dogs could be sisters.

I called right away to be told Angelina had been adopted already, so when I stopped at the shelter for another matter, I thought I would give Dallyn “a hard time” about not letting me know the dog was available. She smiled, told me the adoption fell through and had one of her summer interns bring Angelina to me. Next thing I knew, she was sitting next to me in the car.

To be honest, we didn’t get off to a good start. I let her get used to my house in New York, but she wouldn’t come to me when I called. My daughter even tried the cheese bribe trick. Nothing. Nada. Instead, little Angelina literally backed herself into a corner under the cookbook shelf in the breakfast nook. When I reached for her, she took a chunk {okay not a chunk, but drew blood} out of my thumb and pinkie. I thought for sure our “test night” would be a one-nighter.

I knew she was scared, so I went out to my Jimmy, pulled out my leather gloves and went to get her again. She bit and fought but with the leather barrier I was able to get her out and calm her down by holding her. I haven’t had a minute’s peace since.

Little Angelina follows me around like a lost puppy, although she is about three. She’s not a cuddler, but is rarely more than 10 feet from me. She loves the car. On our trip from New York to Maine, she perched herself on top of the folded down passenger seat and just took in the scenery before curling into a ball with her head on my lap for the duration of the nine hour trip.

The little shih tzu is smart as a whip and learns quickly … when she wants to. We weren’t at the apartment more than two days when I accidentally let her leash go. She bounded away … stopped when I called her … then ran to OUR apartment door and waited.

She’s been good for me. I take her out about four times a day … morning, noon, suppertime and night. She’s not a quick piddler {or pooper} so I usually find myself walking her to the furthest point on the complex. I step counted the trip the other day — about 600 steps each time plus a flight of stairs down and up. That’s 2,400 steps give or take — about a mile or so — and four flights of stairs more than my normal walking routine. And that’s if she doesn’t get sidetracked by the pigeons, bullfrogs or other residents and their dogs. After our walks, I’ll often sit on the bench overlooking the Piscataquis River or take the extra steps to the common patio overlooking the dam. Angie sits right down and enjoys the quiet with me.

She’s a morning dog. In Maine, that’s a problem. First light is in the 4 a.m. range … and I can count on Angelina to let me know she’s awake. I have taught her “No, go back to sleep!” which she has learned. She’ll go back to sleep for a couple of hours. Of course, that’s changed my sleep patterns. I’m now up and about earlier … and ready for bed earlier. It’s a good thing I’m retired.

With the help of my friend Ja, we’ve been working on socialization. When I first got her, Angelina would bark at anything that moved. She now realizes my neighbors are not strangers as she pulls her leash to visit … especially if they have their dogs on lead.

We’re still working on separation anxiety. I’ve gotten her to go into her kennel when I leave for a bit, but as soon as she realizes I’m out of the apartment, she starts yapping. Each day I try to kennel her to get her to realize that’s quiet time. Sometimes it works … more often it doesn’t. But we’ll get there!

I think Angie and I are good for each other. She’s getting some well-needed attention. And I’ve noticed my glucose levels and blood pressure have “normalized”. Part of that is the tranquility of Maine, but I think Angie has contributed.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Not the fruit of experience, but experience itself, is the end.

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Breaking Bread with Jesus

Posted on August 8, 2017 by wisdomfromafather

For anyone who is interested, I generally share my words from the solo side of the pulpit. Sunday, I filled in at West Fayette Presbyterian Church in New York. This week, I will be presiding at Dover-Foxcroft United Methodist Church in Maine. I thank you for your prayers and support — both last week and this week.

May these words of my mouth and this meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer.

I once read the story of a family which was sitting down at the dinner table for their evening meal. But one of the girls wasn’t happy because they were having leftovers, and she complained about it.

The dad was not happy about that and spent a few moments explaining to her she needed to be more thankful for what she had. In order to make sure she understood his point, he decided she should say grace and her prayer should show her appreciation for what she had.

So she bowed her head and then prayed, “Thank You for this food … again.”

We’ve all heard this story of the miracle of the loaves and fishes, probably many times. It’s a favorite Bible school theme. There isn’t a lot we can add. It’s a lesson in trust … even when looking at leftovers.

But as Paul Harvey used to say, “…and now for the rest of the story.”

There’s a theological move afoot to call Matthew’s text – and Mark’s, Luke’s and John’s as well — a parable. They say Jesus didn’t really feed the 5,000 with a mere five loaves of bread and a couple of fish. They theorize the crowd, moved by the example of Jesus and the disciples, shared what they had with each other … a little bread, maybe some figs, whatever. They say the event was more a mandate for the apostles – not the followers – to give all their resources and then some to preach the “substance” of Christ’s ministry. Christ, then, will be with them to assure those who hear the apostles’ message are filled.

Ummmmm. That’s certainly plausible and a good theological take except … this wasn’t a parable. It was an event. I believe it was a miracle, and as with other miracles, it’s not up to us to determine how it happened but to accept it did happen and learn the lesson from it.

I say that because it is found in all four Gospel tracts. To find it in Matthew, Mark and Luke isn’t all that unusual. But even John, who generally follows his own path, includes the event. And all four generally use the same language.

Were there 5,000 or was that number an Israeli Park Service estimate? Were there really just five loaves of bread? What kind of bread was it? What kind of fish was it? Does it matter?

To set the stage, Jesus was nearing the end of His public ministry. The demands on Him were enormous. And He just heard about John the Baptist’s beheading. As a result of the natural fatigue and grieving, Jesus heads out to a deserted place to be alone.

But the townsfolk hear about Jesus’ departure. After all the miracles and healings and teaching, they sought Him out – 5,000 men plus women and children we are told. Instead of resting, Jesus continued ministering … an impromptu tent meeting stretching through the day and Jesus had compassion on them. As the day waned, the disciples came to Jesus and asked Him to turn the crowd away so they could get some food.

According to all four evangelists, Jesus says, “No, bring me what you have.” When they protest saying they had only five loaves of bread and two fish, not nearly enough for the assembled crowd, Jesus affirms, Bring them.

An important point here is Jesus doesn’t feed the crowd. He commissions the disciples to do so after looking up to heaven … blessing … and breaking [the bread]. The disciples, after assembling the crowd into companies, did what they were instructed to do. And all ate and were filled; and they took up what was left over of the broken pieces, 12 baskets full.

So, what’s the significance?

Well, that is the theological rub. That’s the fodder leading to the conclusion this was more of a parable.

We’ve discussed parables before. A parable is a short tale that illustrates a universal truth; it is a simple narrative. It sketches a setting, describes an action and shows the results. But typically, parables are stories within a story. In that sense, the theologians are correct.

However, miracles are real, too. This wasn’t the first time Scripture tells us how God provides. Remember the 40 years in the wilderness? God sent manna every day to feed not 5,000 but perhaps two million people with a breakfast of champions. He caused quail to come into the camp in such great numbers so the people were able to have meat to eat.

Do you remember Elijah in 1 Kings 17 being sent to the widow’s house and asking for bread? She replied she had only a handful of flour and a little oil, and she was just about to make a little cake for herself and her son after which they expected to die. Elijah told her she should first make something for him. For thus says the Lord God of Israel: “The bin of flour shall not be used up, nor shall the jar of oil run dry, until the day the Lord sends rain on the earth.” She obeyed and we read in 1 Kings 17:16 the bin of flour was not used up, nor did the jar of oil run dry, according to the word of the Lord which He spoke by Elijah.

Do you remember the story of Elisha who was approached by a widow lady who was hopelessly in debt? The only thing in her house was a jar of oil and he told her to borrow as many vessels as she could and to start pouring oil out of that jar into those vessels. She filled every vessel until there were no more, and Elisha told her to sell the oil and pay her debt and she and her sons shall live on the rest.

Of course the other noteworthy miracle performed by the Lord Jesus was at the wedding feast when he had the huge water pots filled with water, which was turned into the best wine. And Jesus does this food thing once before, a couple chapters later in Mark for another crowd of 4,000.

You can probably muster up a story or two how God’s providence far exceeded your efforts as well. I’ll share just one personal tidbit.

To set the stage, I interviewed for a job in Illinois and since it meant an 837 mile change in location, Karen went with me for the whirlwind weekend. It meant a substantial raise and a different direction in my career.

The weekend went well and I knew Karen and I had a lot to talk about. I figured we could discuss it further over dinner at the Seven Continents, a five star restaurant overlooking the O’Hare Airport. The only problem was I didn’t realize it was a five-star restaurant. I remember vividly we ordered the Caesar Salad and Chateaubriand and I nearly fainted when the bill came. We didn’t have any credit cards, just cash, and unbeknownst to Karen, the tab left me with $9.10 in my pocket. The waiter got stiffed. We got to the long term parking lot in Newark and I forked over $9 for parking. We got home and I plunked the dime on the table. Karen asked what that was for and I told her the story. Boy did my arm hurt!!!

But I had faith. During the meal I had lifted my eyes to the spectacular star-studded mural at the restaurant and asked God to stretch my meager funds just far enough. He didn’t disappoint.

Up in Maine I had an experience that didn’t go quite as well. I stopped for dinner and even had my arm twisted for a strawberry sundae for dessert. The bill came to $19 and change. I handed the waitress my credit card. She meekishly came back and said the card was declined. It was the only one in my possession and I only had a little more than eight bucks in my pocket. Again I asked for help from above. As I think about it, I do that a lot.

I talked to the manager and explained the situation. He tried running it a couple more times, then went next door to try and run it through their machines. Nothing. Nada. Just wouldn’t go through. As I was wondering when the police would arrive, the manager said, “Just give me what you have. We’ll call it even.”

So, I plunked down the eight bucks and change, thanked him and God, and left. That was Saturday. Monday morning when I was able to get through to the bank, I discovered the bank’s computers were down and since my card is technically a debit/credit card, Visa couldn’t communicate with the bank, thus the charge was rejected. Of course, I sent the restaurant an apology note along with a check for $25, designating the different to the poor waitress.

You all have similar stories.

God is still feeding the multitudes through everyday life. We work to provide funds to buy our food.Even those on welfare and disability pensions are supplied with their food through the work of those who are able to earn their own living by paying taxes which governments distribute. And what of food banks and holiday events which assist through the generosity of others. Surely God is still performing miracles every day of the year for the six billion inhabitants of earth … and through local agencies close to our hearts, like the House of Concern, right here in Seneca County.

What else do we learn from this story within a story?

Well, God’s supply is not only sufficient but super abundant. Have you thought about the logistics of distributing food to more than 5,000 people? How long did it take to pass out this food? And did they supply tartar sauce for the fish?

We also learn God’s supply must not be wasted. Not only were all filled, but after all had eaten, Jesus sent the disciples through the crowd again to gather up what was left over.

I have wondered, what was done with the 12 basketsful that were collected. Were these scraps that had been simply thrown on the ground, or were they food that was left over in baskets after everyone had eaten? Was this just an environmental concern or were these remainders carried with Jesus and His disciples to meet their own need for coming meals, or were they taken to other people who had need?

None of these answers are given to us. We simply read all ate and were filled. The supply never stopped until the need was met. The Bible always gives us enough truth to promote faith, but not enough to satisfy curiosity.

And yet, even with the miracles of feeding 4,000 with seven baskets of leftovers and 5,000 with 12 baskets of leftovers, the disciples still didn’t understand Jesus could supply all their needs. They had been there when Jesus fed the 5,000 and when He fed the 4,000, but they still struggled with the idea Jesus could supply all their needs.

And frankly, we all struggle with that at one time or another. We all struggle with the faith to believe God will supply all our needs in Christ Jesus.

In the old movie Shenandoah, Jimmy Stewart played the self-reliant father of the family. He’d go to church, but essentially he didn’t spend much time thinking about God. At the meal time prayer early in the movie Stewart prayed like this, “Lord, we cleared this land, we plowed it, sowed it and harvested it and we’ve cooked the harvest. It wouldn’t be here, and we wouldn’t be eatin’ it, if we hadn’t done it all ourselves. We worked dog-boned hard for every crumb and morsel, But we thank You just the same anyway, Lord, for this food we’re about to eat. Amen.”

Toward the end of the movie Stewart’s heart changes and he ends up going to church, but the reason I quoted that prayer is it reflects a truth in our lives. We have to make money. We have to pay the bills. We have to make repairs on the house. We have to put gas in our cars. We have to do this/have to do that.

And God doesn’t do that stuff for you. You do. It’s called being a responsible individual. It’s called doing what has to be done. But then something happens in our lives we can’t do. Something happens we can’t control and we can’t overcome. What do we do then?

You know what happens when that happens to me?

I get mad. I get frustrated. I often go into panic- and I can handle this-mode. Sorry, I know I should give you a more spiritual answer than that … but it’s the truth. And if it’s my fault things are going wrong… I get really upset.

But what has life taught me, especially as I move to this side of the pulpit, is to not stay upset. When I go into panic mode, and when find myself becoming frustrated and angry, I don’t let that control me. I’ve learned how to control those emotions. I pray. I tell God “I can’t do this. I don’t how to fix this. I don’t have any resources or power to overcome this obstacle in my life. So God I need You to do what I can’t.”

Jeff Strit, an evangelist/missionary with the Church of Christ in Logansport, IN, has been a preacher for over 30 years. He reflects, “I’ve been a preacher for years and I’ve been blessed with a whole list of leftovers. If you sit down and ask me to tell you of the things God has done in my life over the years I could talk all day long. And I’m hardly ever the hero in those stories. God’s the hero. They’re His stories. They’re the stories of how God has fulfilled all my needs according to His glorious riches in Christ Jesus.

“I’ve got a boatload of leftovers I’ve seen in my life.

“But now, what if you don’t have those personal leftovers to chew on? What if you’re new to the faith? Or what if you haven’t had much experience with God’s kindnesses in your life?

“Well, if you don’t have your own personal leftovers God says, ‘Here let Me give you a few’. That’s what Romans 15:4 is talking about when we’re told, … everything that was written in the past was written to teach us, so that through endurance and the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope.

“Everything God has had written down here in the Bible was meant to be snack food for us. It was all written for you!

“When you read about Joseph being sold into slavery and then unjustly thrown into prison … that was written for you.

“When you read about David facing off against a giant he had no business fighting … that was written for you.

“When you read about Esther facing possible death to save her people … that was written for you.

“When you read about Daniel being thrown into the lion’s den and Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego being thrown into the fiery furnace … those stories were written for you.

“Those stories were all written down so you’d see real people facing real problems – people who may have struggled with their faith. Most of the time those people struggled but ultimately obeyed God. And because they were willing to obey God even in their fears and doubts God worked a miracle in their lives.

“Those tales were not written down so you’d have bed time stories to read to your kids! They were written down so through endurance and the encouragement of the Scriptures (you) might have hope.

“If you don’t have your own leftovers to feed off … feed off these stories.

“I pity the person who refuses to accept these stories as real. I feel sorry for the folks who don’t believe what God has written down for them, because they go to bed hungry. They have nothing to feed their hunger for hope and a future. They don’t believe in a God who can supply all their needs for them according to His glorious riches in Christ Jesus.”

Does that mean I should sit back and do nothing but wait on God? Do I just sit back in my easy chair and put my feet up and say “Que sera, sera – whatever will be will be” and just don’t do anything?

No … that’s not the way this thing works.

When Jesus fed the 5,000 do you remember what He asked His disciples? How many loaves do you have?” Mark 6:38 (five loaves, two fish)

And when Jesus fed the 4,000 do you know what He said to His disciples? “How many loaves do you have?” Mark 8:5 (seven loaves)

Are you sensing a pattern here?

What do you have to give to God? What can you supply?

Well then give it?

I know, you’re asking, “But what if it’s not enough!”

That’s ok… God will make up the difference. If God wants 10 and all you have is two … God will make up the difference.

He wants you to believe so strongly in the fact He can do what He promises, sometimes He expects you to pony up and do what you can – not because He needs your strength or your resources or your influence in the miracle. Rather, God wants you to partner with Him in His miracle. He wants you to share in the wonder of what He’s going to do in your life. He wants to give you a story all your own.

That’s the story within the story. That’s the lesson.

The disciples didn’t understand it … and they were there! They saw God’s benevolence over and over and over again.

What about us? Do we understand it? Do we see the message? Do we see the lesson? Do we recognize God’s presence in our lives?

God used an ordinary boy and his ordinary lunch to feed 5,000 people. God can use you and me and our ordinary things to do something amazing, too! We trust God to provide, and sometimes He might even provide for others in marvelous ways through us.

Amen

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: The will of God will not take you where the peace of God will not keep you.

 

 

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Five Minute Friday — Try

Posted on August 4, 2017 by wisdomfromafather

Happy Five Minute Friday time.

The assignment this week was, quite frankly, challenging. The FMF prompt was TRY, which should be easy peasy. But my mind kept wandering off in different directions {that’s why I call them free range thoughts} and trying to herd them into a coherent five minutes was quite a challenge.

I wonder if my fellow writers at Kate’s place on Facebook at  http://www.fiveminutefriday.com had the same challenge. After this post, I’ll take a peek at the offerings from my writing soulmates. It’s always exciting — and often informative — to see how my fellow FMF friends develop their thoughts in a variety of different genres.

I’ve been sharing snippets taken from Five Minute Friday: A Collection of Stories Written in Five Minutes Flat. They are a testament to the value of the exercise. This week, I’ll share some perspective from Sarah who I hope inspires you to check us out.

“So many times, since I stumbled across Five Minute Friday, I have been blessed and encouraged by it. Not only in my own blogging but also in the community of bloggers that   participate. I love how each word prompt can go to so different a place in each person’s heart and mind! Though it’s been a while since I had time to participate, now that life is slowing down a little, one of the things that I am most looking forward to is getting back into Five Minute Friday.”

If you get a chance, stop by. Or, better yet, try your hand at focused, unscripted writing for just five minutes. And share it on Kate’s website.

But for now, the timer is set for five minutes, so let’s see what kind of a herdsman I am. GO …

One thing I always told my children was, “Try” or “Try it.” I felt it was important for them to go beyond their comfort zone and experience more of life.

When they were frustrated with an assignment or ran into a wall with a problem or essay, the message was the same. “At least try.” When they were outside playing and were faced with a new challenge, it was the same “try” message. If there was something different on their plate, they would be told to at least “try it.”

It’s no different for me. I’ve told myself to “try it” more times than I can remember. I was willing to try new directions in my career. I was accepting new techniques. I entertained efforts to expand me beyond my safe comfort zone … sometimes kicking and screaming. But, nonetheless, I have been open to trying new things.

It’s most evident in  my faith life. I was always quite comfortable … STOP

… with my own safe, personal faith life. But I was encouraged to move out of my comfort zone and make my faith story more public. I transformed from doing faith to living and sharing faith. In fact, for the next two weekends, I will be on the other side of the pulpit {in New York Sunday and Maine the following week — please keep me in your prayers}.

The message is simple. Try. You may not be successful; you may not like the taste or texture … but if you don’t at least try, you’ll never know.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Remember, much of God’s work is invisible. But God is at work all the time.

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Indiana Fun

Posted on July 31, 2017 by wisdomfromafather

Lots of Laughter. Check.

Lots of wet bathing suits. Check.

Rekindling relationships among cousins. Check.

Teamwork. Check.

Fun. Check.

Smiles. Smiles. Smiles. Check. Check. Check.

The players … Kaydee, Addi, Timothy, Gavin, Ella, Karly, Nikki, Joe, DJ, Dee, Me and Anthony

From the check marks, I would say Grandpa’s yearly great adventure with the grandkids was a success!

This year was our third camping junket in an eight-year series of adventures linking the generations. As the seven preceding it, there was nary a hitch — largely because, while I am good with planning adventures, I somewhat fall short on organizing the in-between times so I surround myself with those planners to keep things smooth. My daughter Deanna and her friend Nikki took care of the details and my son Joe and grandson-turned-chaperone Anthony helped keep the brood together. Thanks, guys! Without you these trips wouldn’t be as successful.

Dee and Joe

In all, there were 12 of us — myself, my chaperones, grandkids DJ, Timothy, Karly, Ella, Kaydee and Gavin and adopted granddaughter Abbi.

This all came about after Karen died. I didn’t know anything about Christmas shopping, so I got this crazy idea about gathering the grandkids together for some special trip. Over the years, we’ve seen the Radio City Music Hall Christmas Show in Cleveland, New York and Boston, went on an Easter cruise, a whirlwind trip to the Jersey shore/Carlo’s Bakery/ferry ride/Empire State Building and camping trips to Green Bay, WI, for the Brett Favre Packers Hall of Fame Induction {among other things} and Maine for hiking in Acadia, an afternoon at Playland Adventure and whale watching.

Fun at the lake

But back to this year. We called Circle B Campground in Angola, IN, our almost week-long home. But the adventure included a trip to Albanese Candy in Merrillville (the other side of the state, almost Illinois), the Indiana Dunes, Yogi Bear’s Jellystone Park in Fremont and the Black Pine Animal Sanctuary in Albion. Yeah, from my Maine location, that’s about 1,076 miles — stretched a little further because we zig zagged through the back roads of Indiana — each way. Loved every mile!

The campground was perfect. The “boys” and “girls” campers were a couple hundred yards away, so there was always the intermingling I hoped for. The kids enjoyed the walk to the showers and bathrooms — go figure — and playing in their choice of playgrounds. But, most of all, they enjoyed the lake! They splished. They splashed. They swam. They floated. Remarkably, they pretty much stayed together — or at least in pairs — which meant keeping track of them was a lot easier. My 14 year grandson DJ designed a sand castle on our last day, complete with a moat and dam leading to a serpentine egress to the lake. He found a toy boat and at the appropriate time, unearthed the dam to float the boat into the lake with oohs and aahs from his cousins and newfound friends.

Capping the trip, my two older grandsons — Zach and his wife Kristine and my great-granddaughter Addi and Ryan and his girlfriend Maddy — showed up Saturday for time on the beach. How lucky can a grandpa be?

Candy Land

The candy factory was our first real “adventure”. All I can say is the reactions were like kids in a candy store! A very large, sprawling candy store!

We took the self guided tour since the “windows” were closed for maintenance, but received a gummy goodie bag at the end. And then the fun began as they flitted from one end of the sprawling store to the other picking out gummies and chocolates and other confections. While they all had eyes bigger than their tummies, they didn’t break the bank.

From there we headed to the Dunes. We had a picnic lunch at the Visitor Center, where I learned about the Three Dune Challenge. At just 1.5 miles, I figured, how hard could it be. So I challenged the troops to the Challenge.

I did try!

It was just 1.5 miles, but it literally meant climbing up three sandy dunes — a total of 552 vertical feet at angles ranging from 20-30 degrees to better than 45 degrees.

What! There’s more?

 

 

 

 

 

 

I confess, I only made it to the first dune — hours {okay, minutes, but it seemed like hours} after my crew ascended to the peak of the first dune. Mt. Jackson, 176 feet high with a 31 degree slope. Amid gasps and gulps of water, I announced I was just going to roll back to the parking lot {actually Joe walked back with me … I guess he thought I would have a heart attack or something}. But the rest of the troup carried on to Mt. Holden which sits at 184 feet; and finally Mt. Tom, the tallest sand dune in Indiana Dunes State Park with an elevation of 192 feet. The reward was magnificent views of Lake Michigan, a sense of accomplishment and stickers and a t-shirt that proudly proclaims “The 3 Dunes Challenge”.

Everyone in the pool at Jellystone

Sisters from different mothers

Next we prepared for a day at Yogi Bear’s Jellystone Park. We got off to a later than expected start because of breakfast — who knew the grandkids could scarf down two pounds of bacon and a few dozen eggs. The intent was to let the kids play in the pool/splash park for awhile, maybe take in a mini-putt game, go out for dinner and maybe back to our campground for a campfire and smores. We never got to mini-putt, and by the time we ate, it was too late to start a fire. We couldn’t get them out of the pools/splash park!

The laughter and seeing them playing and getting along together was the best tradeoff.

At the Sanctuary

Friday we hit the sanctuary after donning our official Team Grandpa shirts for our “official portrait” courtesy of one of our camping neighbors. The tour got off to a tense start when the orientation guide asked if there were any questions and nine year old Timmy asked, “What does the fox say?” Hmm. The guide didn’t see the humor.

But we had an intern as our actual habitat guide. Nicole, although not with an engaging personality, was open to questions from the group … even some silly ones tweeners might ask.

Then it was back to Circle B for sausage and peppers and a night of swimming and conversation. Saturday was reserved for campground day capped with a party on the beach with hot dogs, a live dj, contests and dancing. The girls jumped right in … my boys were a little more reserved.

Of course, as we broke camp, there were plenty of hugs, kisses and thank yous. And the inevitable question, “What are we doing next year Grandpa?”

Over the years, we’ve been through blizzards, microbursts, 100 degree heat in Green Bay {who would have thought that was even possible?} and sore legs from walking. I’m proud to say we never lost a kid {that’s not to say we might have WANTED to} and it’s been fun watching them grow and interact with their cousins. Over the years there have been a couple of frowns over the long weekends, but each time we {my chaperones and I} quickly turned them into smiles … and there were a ton of them! This year, I can honestly say there were no frowns — although my chaperones might have felt a little frazzled along the way.

The troops

There are those who say I am crazy {if they know me, they do have a point}. Others think it’s the sweetest gesture ever {I wouldn’t go that far}. But it is a fun time as I corral the grandkids for — hopefully — another memory making experience.

What will we do next year? Hopefully make some more memories!

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: You may not love your work, but it makes a difference when you work for love.

 

 

 

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Five Minute Friday — Inspire

Posted on July 29, 2017 by wisdomfromafather

Welcome to the Saturday installment of Five Minute Friday. No excuses. I just couldn’t muster the inspiration to write for five minutes Friday.

Oh, wait. INSPIRE. That’s this week’s prompt. How (in)appropriate.

But I didn’t want the weekend to fly by without doing my assignment, so here I am on the front end of the assignment (writing) and looking forward to linking with my Five Minute Friday friends at Kate’s place on Facebook at http://www.fiveminutefriday.com . It’s always exciting — and often informative — to see how my fellow FMF friends develop their thoughts in a variety of different genres. If you get a chance, stop by.

I’ve been sharing snippets taken from Five Minute Friday: A Collection of Stories Written in Five Minutes Flat. They are a testament to the value of the exercise. This week, I’ll share some perspective from Kristin who I hope inspires you to check us out … and maybe join in?

“FMF was a foreign concept to me when I first heard about it. Writing for five minutes and NO EDITS?! Crazy town! But what I found as I joined in was that I not only had a reason to write, but there was a community of women [and men] who were doing the same. I loved that, as I would go and read others posts, we all take the same singular word and yet come up with incredibly unique presentations of what that word meant. I attended Allume in 2013 and 2014 and sitting in a circle on the floor of the hotel I wrote furiously that Friday night, surrounded by some of my now closest friends. Five minutes never seemed so short but when we were done and women started sharing their words at the mic, community was solidified. Tears were shed, fears of public speaking were destroyed, laughs were shared and we all left that room a little lighter in our step. It is incredible to me that one word and five minutes could move in such a big way. But it does. I write much less than I used to now, life has a way of doing that to us at times. But I love knowing that when I am ready again there will remain a group of faithful writers gathering together on Thursday night, across the country [and world], ready to take one little word and pen a story, bringing light, hope and joy back int these often dark Internet spaces!”

There you have it. Words of wisdom from Kristin. I hope she moves you maybe, just maybe, to check us out and even give it a whirl yourself. I assure you, you will be welcomed, embraced and enriched.

But now to the task at hand. The timer is set, so it’s time to GO …

This was a tough word for me. I kept trying to think about who inspires me to write. No one. Nothing.

Oh, I have plenty of mentors and supporters. I’ve been given plenty of encouragement over the years, including a healthy dose of constrictive criticism. But to point my finger at one person and say he/she was my inspiration … just didn’t happen.

I can’t even claim divine assistance as my inspiration . Well, sort of. Certainly, God has given me some writing talent [I think] but my most of my words are not divinely inspired.

Then it hit. My inspiration isn’t from a who, it’s from a what [so I guess it is divinely inspired]. You see, I can look at the simply things in life — things that often get overlooked in our everyday lives — and see the beauty and uniqueness worth a word or two. I can see the color in the gray, the brightness in the drab … STOP

… the extraordinary in the ordinary. I’m mesmerized by the birds’ early morning song, the bullfrogs at night, a spectacular sunrise or sunset no man could create, the symphony of a thunderstorm, the rustling wind, the roll of ocean waves, the staccato of women’s heels on a boardwalk, the symmetry of dance, the absolute quiet, the stars as stars in the sky, the doe leading her fawn eating across the river or meadow in the wee hours of the day, the flower/weed pushing through the concrete, the illusions of heat rising from the road, family and friendships — just being together without filters.

That’s what inspires me. What about you?

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Good, better, best; never let it rest; until your good is better; and your better is its best.

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