I am unapologetically Scottish. The Leslies began around 1089 in Aberdeenshire, Scotland with a fellow named Bartholomew from Hungary. We have a castle of sorts that was reconstructed from the ruins by Baron David Leslie, who has since sold it to a Swiss millionaire. David still lives near the castle in a smaller house. One day, I hope to make it to Leslie, Aberdeenshire to visit places that were occupied by my ancestors...in fact, I am relishing the chance. Family history facinates me intensely.
But until that day comes, I must "visit" via the World Wide Web. I have several photos that were emailed to me from one dear soul who lives near Leslie and this has only intensified my desire to visit my "native land". However, I have been privliged to have recently acquaint myself with an expatriate from Scotland through a co-worker of mine. Seems that she met this lad while she lived in Scotland for a year or so & fell in love with him. He has made his second visit to the US & now he and I have become good friends. I will soon be taking him on a Sunday trip to visit yet another fellow Scot (Clan McFersonson) to enjoy an afternoon of shooting. I don't shoot, but my new Scottish friend does, being a former enlistee of the Scottish Army.
I am quite eager be able to get to know my new Scottish friend since our journey will be a 90 minute ride to hook up with McFerson. I've never had a chance to engage with a native Scot and the thought of becoming good friends with someone from my "homeland" is facinating at the least...and simply exhilerating at best.
Leslie history has gripped me since my joining the Clan Leslie Society and attending a couple of the bi-annual gatherings held at various Highland Games nearby. About the only thing that could give me a bigger buzz is to actually meet a true Leslie who lives in Aberdeenshire, Scotland. I'm afraid if that ever happened, I may be given a restraining order from that person.
It is too bad that family & the genuine interest in one's roots or heritage is not as facinating with most of society as it used to be. I find a sort of comfort in knowing where I came from & how my namesake got here. When I tell others of my interest in my family's roots, they express such envy of my passion. Like it's something I have that they cannot obtain. Yet, it is not that difficult to persue. It only takes a little curiosity & a desire to do a bit of research. I have not joined any of those sites on the Internet where you must pay to access birth or marraige records of one's relatives. I just have joined a few free listservs that do nothing more than connect people together.
Do you know how posessed I am about this whole Scotland thing? I have a "teach yourself Gaelic" course (I've only made it to Chapter One because the 18 character Gaelic Alphabet is befuddling the daylights out of me). I ordered a book/CD release of ScotSpeak written by two Scottish university professors on how to properly speak Scots English with the appropriate dialect for four different Scottish regions (Dumfreys, Edinburgh, Glasgow, and Aberdeenshire). I have a huge Scottish flag displayed in my office at work and a small Scottish windsock hung from my car's rearview mirror.
Oh, and I have also been one of the brave souls who have ingested haggis. Trust me. If you have to ask, you don't need to know.
Okay, there is a few things that are typically Scottish that I do not do. I'm not much into golf, I'm not Presbyterian, nor am I a whiskey drinker. But I can listen to a Scotsman talk all day long. And I plan on using the time I have with my new Scottish expatriate friend wisely to learn as much as much as I can about the culture of my family's birth and to help him have a deeper love for his home, too.
6.04.2005
5.08.2005
Settling In
Well, I've been at my new home now for about a year and a half. After spending half my time with a yard full of rocks and mud, I have some grass (operative word being "some") to show off. Most of the boxes are unpacked and the ones that aren't are still downstairs in the still unfinished basement where I will one day have a room to myself...my "office"...a place where I can retreat & separate myself from the duties of adulthood.
I've been married almost 8 years and have been living on my own for about 20. It's not been an easy 20 years, but I know it has been blessed. I've seen how my zealous dogmatism of my days in college has been tempered by the lifestyle of rural northwest Pennsylvania. I now dream of making this newly built home a final stop before my next move: Into a pine box.
Yes, I am crazy enough to think that this will be the place where I will spend the rest of my life. Is that so crazy when you stop to think about it?
I have a job that, so far, appears to be good. It's not the job I moved my family here for, and it is one I must drive for 45 minutes to & from work. But it is a good job in a field I know & enjoy, and it is with a company that has, so far, been encouraging and fair. My wife appears to have now found a job that will offer far less stress - and far less pay - and more time to be flexable to spend with the rest of the family.
I'm not rich by any stretch of the imagination. I like to say that I'm just more in debt than most. But that's not true, either, because my wife has a good handle on the finances....far beyond what I would ever be able to do.
I have two boys with which one has my temperment and the other, my personality. One lookes like me, the other looks like my wife. They are 18 months apart in age - perfect to either be bitter enemies or co-horts in plotting against the parents.
There is nothing stellar about me, my job, my family, or my situation in life. And I think this is typical of most people. We keep thinking there will be something extraordinary that will occur in our lives that will transform us into a new paradigm shift. I think that is the exception, rather than the norm. Instead, I prefer to bloom where I'm planted.
I have grown tired trying to manipulate people into what I think they should be and have instead accepted them for what they already are. I look for opportunities to share a little about me and about what I believe out of a genuine love for the person and a willingness to be genuine with my friendship. Not out of a desire to angle someone into a corral to try to harness them into conformity.
I may not agree with their style, their beliefs, their political persuasion, or their philosophy. But I try to meet them where they are. And if I am able to share with them a bit of who I am and why I believe the way I do, that is great. And should they desire to know more about me and why I believe the way I do, that's awesome. My highest form of ecstacy is when another chooses to follow what I believe. And that decision is based on their genuine choice, not my crafty manimpulation.
Yes, I'm settling in to not just my newly built home, but my new neighbors, my new church, my new job, and my new surroundings. After a few awkward adjustments, and a little "breaking in", it appears things are starting to feel a bit more comfortable.
I've been married almost 8 years and have been living on my own for about 20. It's not been an easy 20 years, but I know it has been blessed. I've seen how my zealous dogmatism of my days in college has been tempered by the lifestyle of rural northwest Pennsylvania. I now dream of making this newly built home a final stop before my next move: Into a pine box.
Yes, I am crazy enough to think that this will be the place where I will spend the rest of my life. Is that so crazy when you stop to think about it?
I have a job that, so far, appears to be good. It's not the job I moved my family here for, and it is one I must drive for 45 minutes to & from work. But it is a good job in a field I know & enjoy, and it is with a company that has, so far, been encouraging and fair. My wife appears to have now found a job that will offer far less stress - and far less pay - and more time to be flexable to spend with the rest of the family.
I'm not rich by any stretch of the imagination. I like to say that I'm just more in debt than most. But that's not true, either, because my wife has a good handle on the finances....far beyond what I would ever be able to do.
I have two boys with which one has my temperment and the other, my personality. One lookes like me, the other looks like my wife. They are 18 months apart in age - perfect to either be bitter enemies or co-horts in plotting against the parents.
There is nothing stellar about me, my job, my family, or my situation in life. And I think this is typical of most people. We keep thinking there will be something extraordinary that will occur in our lives that will transform us into a new paradigm shift. I think that is the exception, rather than the norm. Instead, I prefer to bloom where I'm planted.
I have grown tired trying to manipulate people into what I think they should be and have instead accepted them for what they already are. I look for opportunities to share a little about me and about what I believe out of a genuine love for the person and a willingness to be genuine with my friendship. Not out of a desire to angle someone into a corral to try to harness them into conformity.
I may not agree with their style, their beliefs, their political persuasion, or their philosophy. But I try to meet them where they are. And if I am able to share with them a bit of who I am and why I believe the way I do, that is great. And should they desire to know more about me and why I believe the way I do, that's awesome. My highest form of ecstacy is when another chooses to follow what I believe. And that decision is based on their genuine choice, not my crafty manimpulation.
Yes, I'm settling in to not just my newly built home, but my new neighbors, my new church, my new job, and my new surroundings. After a few awkward adjustments, and a little "breaking in", it appears things are starting to feel a bit more comfortable.
4.24.2005
Evangelism Vs. Committment
The Great Commission admonishes us to "go into the world and make disciples". So most may understand this to mean that we drop what we're doing & hit the road. Jesus had also made the statement that if "anyone loved his father or mother more than Me, is not worthy of Me." So we should all "take up our Cross daily and follow Him, right?
Maybe.
Yes, I said, "Maybe". Why? Because I have since wondered if we're not trying to create a hybrid gospel from two different directions. I have always been told I should "be a witness" for Christ. That I need to pray to ask God to "help me be a witness" for Him. It suddently dawned on me that no one has to "be a witness" at all. Even the last verses in Matthew (that we have labeled, "The Great Commission" passage) never says anyone has to, "be a witness".
It says "you shall be My witnesses".
Big difference, Chester. Big difference. If you know Christ as the Lord & Savior of your life, whether you want to (or like it) or not, you are a witness. Plain and simple. Christ first wants our devotion, He wants our desires, He wants our passion. He wants us to want Him more than we want our parents, our spouse, our children...our red Corvette... Then, once we have chosen Him above & beyond all others, He says that we will be a witness for Him. We don't have to try to be - or ask for help at being - a witness. We are one.
The Great Commission, in actuality, is not saying we are to drop what we are doing & "be a witness". What the intention of this passage is saying is "As you go about in the world around you, make disciples". Include disciple-making in your plans. It doesn't say to enroll in an Evangelism Explosion course and start trying to convert every pagan in sight. It is implying that in your travels, in your circle of friends and acquaintences, and in your "world", find ways to make disciples, too.
Now, can a person be a "disciple" and not be committed to Christ? Obviously, the answer is "no". Can a person be evangelistic & not committed to Christ? Well...yes. Anyone can take a salesmanship course on salvation. Being "a witness" is not necessarily connected to being a Christian. But being a Christian certainly has a lot to do with being evangelistic.
I believe God is saying we should not have to have the pressure of being someone we are not in order to share who we are in Him. And we shouldn't work ourselves up if we see another Believer who is not who we think they should be just because they are not acting like we think a Christian ought. It is God who is the One to determine how committed to Him each person really is.
So for me to assume that if you are not as evangelistic as I then you are not as committed as I, is doing the body of Christ a genuine disservice. Your committment to God should have no bearing on my assumption on you. God uses each one of His Servants to accomplish what He intends. For me to question how He uses another servant for His Purpose is to usurp His Divine Authority in creation.
Besides, if I spend most of my time fretting over the committment of others, I have little time to evaluate my own committment to Christ...and my evangelistic zeal will soon loose its edge.
Maybe.
Yes, I said, "Maybe". Why? Because I have since wondered if we're not trying to create a hybrid gospel from two different directions. I have always been told I should "be a witness" for Christ. That I need to pray to ask God to "help me be a witness" for Him. It suddently dawned on me that no one has to "be a witness" at all. Even the last verses in Matthew (that we have labeled, "The Great Commission" passage) never says anyone has to, "be a witness".
It says "you shall be My witnesses".
Big difference, Chester. Big difference. If you know Christ as the Lord & Savior of your life, whether you want to (or like it) or not, you are a witness. Plain and simple. Christ first wants our devotion, He wants our desires, He wants our passion. He wants us to want Him more than we want our parents, our spouse, our children...our red Corvette... Then, once we have chosen Him above & beyond all others, He says that we will be a witness for Him. We don't have to try to be - or ask for help at being - a witness. We are one.
The Great Commission, in actuality, is not saying we are to drop what we are doing & "be a witness". What the intention of this passage is saying is "As you go about in the world around you, make disciples". Include disciple-making in your plans. It doesn't say to enroll in an Evangelism Explosion course and start trying to convert every pagan in sight. It is implying that in your travels, in your circle of friends and acquaintences, and in your "world", find ways to make disciples, too.
Now, can a person be a "disciple" and not be committed to Christ? Obviously, the answer is "no". Can a person be evangelistic & not committed to Christ? Well...yes. Anyone can take a salesmanship course on salvation. Being "a witness" is not necessarily connected to being a Christian. But being a Christian certainly has a lot to do with being evangelistic.
I believe God is saying we should not have to have the pressure of being someone we are not in order to share who we are in Him. And we shouldn't work ourselves up if we see another Believer who is not who we think they should be just because they are not acting like we think a Christian ought. It is God who is the One to determine how committed to Him each person really is.
So for me to assume that if you are not as evangelistic as I then you are not as committed as I, is doing the body of Christ a genuine disservice. Your committment to God should have no bearing on my assumption on you. God uses each one of His Servants to accomplish what He intends. For me to question how He uses another servant for His Purpose is to usurp His Divine Authority in creation.
Besides, if I spend most of my time fretting over the committment of others, I have little time to evaluate my own committment to Christ...and my evangelistic zeal will soon loose its edge.
4.02.2005
Deathwatching
Talk about a morbid society.
We spent countless days hearing and watching Terri Schiavo slip into death as she was left on her own after her feeding tube was removed. Terri, who doctors say was severely mentally handicapped after an eating disorder caused her to slip into a coma, told her husband that she did not want to be hooked up to a machine if she could not live on her own. He was carrying out her wishes (sans a legal document called a "living will") and ended up being lionized for his decisions. Yeah, I know there area two sides to every story and I'm sure I'm not getting both of them. I'm not going to get in the middle of this with a long drawn out opinion. But I will say this whole case is a good lesson in setting up a living will.
If I specify in my living will (with sound mind & judgment) that if I become incapacitated in some way that I do not want to be kept alive by tubes & monitors -- even to the extent that if I have no quality of life left -- I desire to be euthanized, then the medical team has no other choice but to follow my wishes.
Most folks when they get married at an early age never think about setting up a will of any kind. This is about as stupid as buying a car & not setting up insurance.
Now for the family of Terri Schiavo, all they got was a media circus as everyone watched her slowly die. Here's the wild thing about this: I heard on the news that some individuals were willing to pay their own money to keep her alive. Now, if my father or mother were in this situation, why wouldn't someone do this for me? How silly. While this deathwatch was going on, all the kooks and maniacs were parading around in front of news cameras ...some even were allowed to open their mouths on national TV... and turning the whole process into a mockery.
Where are these loonies when it is being debated on whether or not to abort a baby?
Where are these bozos as another deathwatch is literally following right after Schiavo's death? The Pope of the Roman Catholic Church lies in the Vatican slipping in and out of consciousness. Did they remove HIS feeding tube? He chose to leave this earth in his Vatican apartment. Not in a hospital. Where are all the maniacs screaming at the biships & priests demanding that the Pontiff be placed in a facility where they can keep him alive? What is the difference?
The thing that is most morbid is that now we have two deathwatches in a row ... and it is the primary focus of all the media attention. The whole nation is fixated on dying. What is wrong with this???
You know what I've been doing? Ive been celebrating life by totally immersing myself in my two little boys. I am soaking up everytime they repeatedly say, "Daddy!" - even if it's the 467th time today. I am giving them my undivided attention when they ask me something. I am telling them about their family...their other relatives from whom they decended. I am exploring their world and re-examining mine.
When this whole deathwatch is over, can we please try a little lifewatching for a while?
We spent countless days hearing and watching Terri Schiavo slip into death as she was left on her own after her feeding tube was removed. Terri, who doctors say was severely mentally handicapped after an eating disorder caused her to slip into a coma, told her husband that she did not want to be hooked up to a machine if she could not live on her own. He was carrying out her wishes (sans a legal document called a "living will") and ended up being lionized for his decisions. Yeah, I know there area two sides to every story and I'm sure I'm not getting both of them. I'm not going to get in the middle of this with a long drawn out opinion. But I will say this whole case is a good lesson in setting up a living will.
If I specify in my living will (with sound mind & judgment) that if I become incapacitated in some way that I do not want to be kept alive by tubes & monitors -- even to the extent that if I have no quality of life left -- I desire to be euthanized, then the medical team has no other choice but to follow my wishes.
Most folks when they get married at an early age never think about setting up a will of any kind. This is about as stupid as buying a car & not setting up insurance.
Now for the family of Terri Schiavo, all they got was a media circus as everyone watched her slowly die. Here's the wild thing about this: I heard on the news that some individuals were willing to pay their own money to keep her alive. Now, if my father or mother were in this situation, why wouldn't someone do this for me? How silly. While this deathwatch was going on, all the kooks and maniacs were parading around in front of news cameras ...some even were allowed to open their mouths on national TV... and turning the whole process into a mockery.
Where are these loonies when it is being debated on whether or not to abort a baby?
Where are these bozos as another deathwatch is literally following right after Schiavo's death? The Pope of the Roman Catholic Church lies in the Vatican slipping in and out of consciousness. Did they remove HIS feeding tube? He chose to leave this earth in his Vatican apartment. Not in a hospital. Where are all the maniacs screaming at the biships & priests demanding that the Pontiff be placed in a facility where they can keep him alive? What is the difference?
The thing that is most morbid is that now we have two deathwatches in a row ... and it is the primary focus of all the media attention. The whole nation is fixated on dying. What is wrong with this???
You know what I've been doing? Ive been celebrating life by totally immersing myself in my two little boys. I am soaking up everytime they repeatedly say, "Daddy!" - even if it's the 467th time today. I am giving them my undivided attention when they ask me something. I am telling them about their family...their other relatives from whom they decended. I am exploring their world and re-examining mine.
When this whole deathwatch is over, can we please try a little lifewatching for a while?
3.17.2005
A Real Life Relay
Late next month, the local chapter of the American Cancer Society will kick off their annual Relay For Life in my hometown of Booneville, AR. I remember my early involvment with the ACS back when I was in elementary & middle school. I had the privledge of working with one of my hometown's most prominent citizens, Marcelle Phillips, by being asked to serve as the "Jr. Crusade Chairman" for the ACS back in the 1970s. I entered the ACS Bike-A-Thon where I won top prizes for sponsorship & monies raised. Little did I know that what I was doing was just a forerunner to just how essential my participaton in the ACS was. What would happen on that one eventful day by the time I was in the eighth grade would remain with me for life.
Mom had her regular check-up at the doctor's office where the doctor discovered a lump in her breast. The biopsy was sent off for diagnosis & mom returned to the doctor once the results had come in. I remember all of us standing in the kitchen together after Dad called everyone together once Mom returned from the doctor's office. Mom stood next to him, not saying anything. Dad informed myself & my sister that the tumor that was discovered was found to be malignant. My sister didn't know what that word meant & asked Dad about it. Dad said in a broken voice, "Your Mother has cancer."
Then, he turned & left the room.
We all followed him, not saying a word, up the hallway into their bedroom where Dad sat down on the bedside. Mom sat next to him with my sister & I next to her. I remember seeing the outline of my dad sitting in front of the bedside lamp with his head in his hands. And he began to sob. I had never seen my dad cry before in my life & as a 14 year old, this caused me great anxiety & turmoil. I knew this was big time.
Mom told Dad that he should not be upset because they hadn't begun treatment & we really did not know anything else. My Dad could only think of having two children without a mother...and he without a companion.
Mom had her mastectomy & began her radiation treatments & we were prepped about what could happen once these treatments began. However, the only side effects Mom had was the sore throat & loss of energy. She went every week to get the radiation treatments & was contantly examined to make sure "they got it all".
They didn't.
Two years later, a second lump was found in her other breast that was diagnosed as malignant. And this time, she went through chemotherapy. And, the only side effects she had was nausea & the usual symptoms. In both treatments, however, she never lost her hair.
And, Mom lived another 25 years after these proceedures.
That's when they found lumps cropping up in her lungs. Again, this stemmed from the prior breast cancer she had contracted earlier. The new (at the time experimental) drug, tomoxiphin, had been approved for use on cancer patients & she began taking doses of this...which bought another 5 or more years.
It was during this time she celebrated her 40th wedding anniversary & wanted the kids to throw her a party. She confessed to me that she was looking at this party as her "50th Anniversary" because she said, "I'll not make it to my real 50th".
And, true to her prophetic assumption, at age 67, more lumps were found. One in the pelvic area and another at the base of her cerebellum. She opted this time not to undergo any type of surgery because at her age and because of her loss of lung tissue from tuberculosis as a teenager, she would come out of the operation on a respirator for the rest of her life.
Mom died before she saw her 69th birthday in 2000.
Dispite living a life like this, Mom never turned down an opportunity to talk to other women (and their husbands) who had been diagnosed with breast cancer or who was looking at the possibilities of mastectomy. During these 30+ years, no one ever heard her complain about having cancer. No one ever heard her question God, blame God, or any other way deny the responsibility she had in having to deal with the disease. No one ever heard her express how she felt life had cheated her.
She only spent her last 30 years being an inspiration to others.
And to me.
Mom had her regular check-up at the doctor's office where the doctor discovered a lump in her breast. The biopsy was sent off for diagnosis & mom returned to the doctor once the results had come in. I remember all of us standing in the kitchen together after Dad called everyone together once Mom returned from the doctor's office. Mom stood next to him, not saying anything. Dad informed myself & my sister that the tumor that was discovered was found to be malignant. My sister didn't know what that word meant & asked Dad about it. Dad said in a broken voice, "Your Mother has cancer."
Then, he turned & left the room.
We all followed him, not saying a word, up the hallway into their bedroom where Dad sat down on the bedside. Mom sat next to him with my sister & I next to her. I remember seeing the outline of my dad sitting in front of the bedside lamp with his head in his hands. And he began to sob. I had never seen my dad cry before in my life & as a 14 year old, this caused me great anxiety & turmoil. I knew this was big time.
Mom told Dad that he should not be upset because they hadn't begun treatment & we really did not know anything else. My Dad could only think of having two children without a mother...and he without a companion.
Mom had her mastectomy & began her radiation treatments & we were prepped about what could happen once these treatments began. However, the only side effects Mom had was the sore throat & loss of energy. She went every week to get the radiation treatments & was contantly examined to make sure "they got it all".
They didn't.
Two years later, a second lump was found in her other breast that was diagnosed as malignant. And this time, she went through chemotherapy. And, the only side effects she had was nausea & the usual symptoms. In both treatments, however, she never lost her hair.
And, Mom lived another 25 years after these proceedures.
That's when they found lumps cropping up in her lungs. Again, this stemmed from the prior breast cancer she had contracted earlier. The new (at the time experimental) drug, tomoxiphin, had been approved for use on cancer patients & she began taking doses of this...which bought another 5 or more years.
It was during this time she celebrated her 40th wedding anniversary & wanted the kids to throw her a party. She confessed to me that she was looking at this party as her "50th Anniversary" because she said, "I'll not make it to my real 50th".
And, true to her prophetic assumption, at age 67, more lumps were found. One in the pelvic area and another at the base of her cerebellum. She opted this time not to undergo any type of surgery because at her age and because of her loss of lung tissue from tuberculosis as a teenager, she would come out of the operation on a respirator for the rest of her life.
Mom died before she saw her 69th birthday in 2000.
Dispite living a life like this, Mom never turned down an opportunity to talk to other women (and their husbands) who had been diagnosed with breast cancer or who was looking at the possibilities of mastectomy. During these 30+ years, no one ever heard her complain about having cancer. No one ever heard her question God, blame God, or any other way deny the responsibility she had in having to deal with the disease. No one ever heard her express how she felt life had cheated her.
She only spent her last 30 years being an inspiration to others.
And to me.
3.07.2005
To Reconcile or Not To Reconcile?
I have some challenges dealing with people who I've been "at odds" with. I am a person who will take on a disagreement head-on. And if I've done something to offend a person, I try to make it right & then move on. However, I have a lot of trouble with those who can't move on with me.
It bothers me when, after I've made a good faith attempt to make amends with another and then that person suddenly has changed their approach to me. Yes, I do realize there must be some time to recover or to earn back any trust issues that may have been lost. But to pull back & give a "stand-offish" treatment to me will not help improve the relationship.
I deal with issues like this first by bucking the treatment & trying to carry on as normal. I do this because I want the person to understand that I've taken responsibility for any action I was guilty of and I'm trying to re-establish our prior relaionship before the offense occurred. If that person fails to respond to my good-faith attempts at reconciliation, I surmise that the effort is a moot cause & resolve that this is merely a one-sided reconciliation attempt.
Depending on how much I feel there is left to salvage in situations like this, I may directly approach the person & "clue them in" on just what is going on. I have no trouble calling things out into the open & resolving the problem. But I see no sense in doing it if the other person refuses to cooperate.
What I can't seem to understand, I guess, is why -- after an individual has expressed the desire to not only seek forgiveness but also reconciliation -- that the other person just shuts down...giving only "lip service" to the friendship/relationship? If the shoe were on the other foot, I would be at least a little bit encouraged that the person was eagerly trying to restore a broken trust. I would think it would be like rubbing salt into a wound for me to draw away from such an attempt, even if I were the one who was offended.
I guess this is one of the great mysteries of humankind. I can only wish that everyone would be so willing to be transparent with one another. I believe this would go a long way at acheiving better relations with each other ...and maybe even between cultures & nations.
It bothers me when, after I've made a good faith attempt to make amends with another and then that person suddenly has changed their approach to me. Yes, I do realize there must be some time to recover or to earn back any trust issues that may have been lost. But to pull back & give a "stand-offish" treatment to me will not help improve the relationship.
I deal with issues like this first by bucking the treatment & trying to carry on as normal. I do this because I want the person to understand that I've taken responsibility for any action I was guilty of and I'm trying to re-establish our prior relaionship before the offense occurred. If that person fails to respond to my good-faith attempts at reconciliation, I surmise that the effort is a moot cause & resolve that this is merely a one-sided reconciliation attempt.
Depending on how much I feel there is left to salvage in situations like this, I may directly approach the person & "clue them in" on just what is going on. I have no trouble calling things out into the open & resolving the problem. But I see no sense in doing it if the other person refuses to cooperate.
What I can't seem to understand, I guess, is why -- after an individual has expressed the desire to not only seek forgiveness but also reconciliation -- that the other person just shuts down...giving only "lip service" to the friendship/relationship? If the shoe were on the other foot, I would be at least a little bit encouraged that the person was eagerly trying to restore a broken trust. I would think it would be like rubbing salt into a wound for me to draw away from such an attempt, even if I were the one who was offended.
I guess this is one of the great mysteries of humankind. I can only wish that everyone would be so willing to be transparent with one another. I believe this would go a long way at acheiving better relations with each other ...and maybe even between cultures & nations.
2.25.2005
"The Talk" at 4
I picked up my oldest (Cameron, age 4 1/2) yesterday from our friend's house where he & his 3 year old brother stay until I get off work. We all go to the same church & our kids play together...all are pretty much the same age. They have 2 girls & a infant boy.
My friend told me how, while drinking a morning cup of coffee, heard whispering in the next room. There Cameron was found with my friend's youngest girl in an "intimate moment". Keep in mind that Cameron is our more emotional child who will erupt in a flow of tears & wails when he has to hug his brother & apologize for doing something to him.
Cameron was told that it is not acceptable to be doing what he was doing with a little girl. Now before you think this kid was "gittin' jiggy wit' it", there wasn't anything kinky about what occurred... But it was certainly an act that would not be encouraged as it could lead to other things.
As soon as he was confronted with this, the waterworks were turned on full. He burst out in blubbering & shame, covering his eyes & wailing. My friend tried to assure him he was not in trouble nor was he going to be punished. But that it was not a nice thing to be doing at his age.
I chose to approach him about this after supper just before bed time. I diverted his brother to the VCR & made my move while mommy was on the phone. I even began our talk by saying he was not in trouble. But as soon as I mentioned the incident, the blubbering began. He kept insisting he did not want to talk about it because he "didn't like it". However, I really felt if it was not talked about, it could become a repression issue.
What happened that was so emotionally traumatic for this 4 year old? Well, here's the story I heard... He said his little friend (and youngest daughter of our friends) whispered she loved him very much! He admitted that he felt happy when she told this to him. He responded with a hug for his new girlfriend. I wanted to assure him that what occurred was, indeed, a very special thing that happened and that it was very special to have someone tell another that they loved them.
I also wanted to caution him that mommy often tells me that she loves me and that makes me happy, too. A big grin spread across his face. I told him that this sort of thing happens all the time with grown-ups and when grown-ups get married by a pastor. I tried to also make him understand making each other "happy" should be done when he is older.
At least I'm pleased that this small incident didn't include my friend's son. I'll take my blessings where I can!
My friend told me how, while drinking a morning cup of coffee, heard whispering in the next room. There Cameron was found with my friend's youngest girl in an "intimate moment". Keep in mind that Cameron is our more emotional child who will erupt in a flow of tears & wails when he has to hug his brother & apologize for doing something to him.
Cameron was told that it is not acceptable to be doing what he was doing with a little girl. Now before you think this kid was "gittin' jiggy wit' it", there wasn't anything kinky about what occurred... But it was certainly an act that would not be encouraged as it could lead to other things.
As soon as he was confronted with this, the waterworks were turned on full. He burst out in blubbering & shame, covering his eyes & wailing. My friend tried to assure him he was not in trouble nor was he going to be punished. But that it was not a nice thing to be doing at his age.
I chose to approach him about this after supper just before bed time. I diverted his brother to the VCR & made my move while mommy was on the phone. I even began our talk by saying he was not in trouble. But as soon as I mentioned the incident, the blubbering began. He kept insisting he did not want to talk about it because he "didn't like it". However, I really felt if it was not talked about, it could become a repression issue.
What happened that was so emotionally traumatic for this 4 year old? Well, here's the story I heard... He said his little friend (and youngest daughter of our friends) whispered she loved him very much! He admitted that he felt happy when she told this to him. He responded with a hug for his new girlfriend. I wanted to assure him that what occurred was, indeed, a very special thing that happened and that it was very special to have someone tell another that they loved them.
I also wanted to caution him that mommy often tells me that she loves me and that makes me happy, too. A big grin spread across his face. I told him that this sort of thing happens all the time with grown-ups and when grown-ups get married by a pastor. I tried to also make him understand making each other "happy" should be done when he is older.
At least I'm pleased that this small incident didn't include my friend's son. I'll take my blessings where I can!
2.22.2005
Life Is A Highway...
Have you ever those thoughts of what you would do in the event that a catastrophic event ever came to you? What do you do when you come within millimeters of living out that thougt?
It would be frightfull enough to encounter a Freightliner tractor-trailor in broad daylight when you are trying to regain control of a 5 passenger, four-door, Saturn SL1 after it had started fish-tailing on a flash-frozen bridge on a curve. Try doing this in the darkness of 5:00am. Watching as the beam of your headlights sweep across two lanes of a 4-lane interstate highway from one guard-rail to another.
You watch as the light illuminates the light shines as you go careening toward one of the guard-rails where you hear the slam of the vehicle against the rail, feel the force of the impact, and watch the fender on the outside of the car buckle outside your windshield. And then you watch it happen again. And this happens as your car is being ping-ponged with the Freightliner. Then, it is flung to the right berm against another guard-rail while a tractor-trailer rubs against your driver's door vibrating your entire seat.
Then the lights go out & you realize you are sitting in a haze of what you think is smoke...fearing the car will explode at any moment...only to realize it is the powder of the two airbags that exploded, saving you from who knows what. You try to get out of your seat belt and realize you can't open your door, so you begin trying to find an escape route from what you fear could be your tomb. Once outside, you try to scramble for the cell phone that you had on your waist before the crash, but you can't find a thing in the pitch darkness. Not even your flashlight.
That was pretty much what happened on Monday morning, Feb. 21 as I went to work. The car was totalled.
I could really go on a rampage, describing how I needed this like I did a hole in my head. I could rail about the fact that just when I thought that things were starting to upswing, the bottom fell out. I could cry and moan about how unfair this whole thing is. That nothing is going my way.
But why?
None of this will undo the experience, nor repair the mangled wreck that will soon be towed away for scrap. None of this will increase my bank account so I can pay off the debt from a loan on a car that is not worth more than it is owed for.
I can rejoice in the fact that in the 29 years I've been driving a car, this is the worst accident I've ever been in. I've traveled thousands of miles across multiple states. And this is the first. I can rejoice that I could get a car that may be better than the one that was totalled. I could rejoice that I have a lot to be thankful for. I have a job after being next to un-employed for well over a year & a half. That I have a home of my own. That I have two totally cute & wonderful little boys. That I have been married to a wonderful wife for almost 8 years.
That I'm alive.
Yeah. That sorta balances things out.
It would be frightfull enough to encounter a Freightliner tractor-trailor in broad daylight when you are trying to regain control of a 5 passenger, four-door, Saturn SL1 after it had started fish-tailing on a flash-frozen bridge on a curve. Try doing this in the darkness of 5:00am. Watching as the beam of your headlights sweep across two lanes of a 4-lane interstate highway from one guard-rail to another.
You watch as the light illuminates the light shines as you go careening toward one of the guard-rails where you hear the slam of the vehicle against the rail, feel the force of the impact, and watch the fender on the outside of the car buckle outside your windshield. And then you watch it happen again. And this happens as your car is being ping-ponged with the Freightliner. Then, it is flung to the right berm against another guard-rail while a tractor-trailer rubs against your driver's door vibrating your entire seat.
Then the lights go out & you realize you are sitting in a haze of what you think is smoke...fearing the car will explode at any moment...only to realize it is the powder of the two airbags that exploded, saving you from who knows what. You try to get out of your seat belt and realize you can't open your door, so you begin trying to find an escape route from what you fear could be your tomb. Once outside, you try to scramble for the cell phone that you had on your waist before the crash, but you can't find a thing in the pitch darkness. Not even your flashlight.
That was pretty much what happened on Monday morning, Feb. 21 as I went to work. The car was totalled.
I could really go on a rampage, describing how I needed this like I did a hole in my head. I could rail about the fact that just when I thought that things were starting to upswing, the bottom fell out. I could cry and moan about how unfair this whole thing is. That nothing is going my way.
But why?
None of this will undo the experience, nor repair the mangled wreck that will soon be towed away for scrap. None of this will increase my bank account so I can pay off the debt from a loan on a car that is not worth more than it is owed for.
I can rejoice in the fact that in the 29 years I've been driving a car, this is the worst accident I've ever been in. I've traveled thousands of miles across multiple states. And this is the first. I can rejoice that I could get a car that may be better than the one that was totalled. I could rejoice that I have a lot to be thankful for. I have a job after being next to un-employed for well over a year & a half. That I have a home of my own. That I have two totally cute & wonderful little boys. That I have been married to a wonderful wife for almost 8 years.
That I'm alive.
Yeah. That sorta balances things out.
2.13.2005
Old Home Week
Amazing what a simple thing like signing a guest book can do. All I did was sign a guestbook entry in the newly redesigned website for my hometown newspaper. Next thing I know, I'm getting email from old friends I haven't heard from in decades.
Which got me to thinking how time and separation really alters reality. Friendships I had with folks I was close to in high school suddenly have an awkwardness to them. It's as if I'm trying to grasp for good leveridge! Why is that? I know that lots of water has run under the bridge...which includes a spouse, kids, career, and the evolving of one's maturity.
I was able to talk to one of these long, lost friends on the phone this weekend. Talk about stammering all over myself. My mind was racing to find some common bond that had a 25 year gap in the middle. It was only after I had the chance to digest our much-belated reunion did I begin to formulate some cognitive feelings about my friend & our friendship.
In high school, well... in school period, I was not what you would call one of the kids voted most popular. If they had the category of "Butt of All Jokes", I would have won with flying colors. That's some of the blessings of growing up for 12 years in the same small town school district. So, I'm not exactly what you'd call very excited about tracing any of my old high school classmates to see where they are now. I have never been to a high school reunion nor do I have the urge to do so. I can count on one hand the number of classmates I would even want to know what has traspired in their lives. In fact, the one classmate I was best friends with early on in my grade school years seems to have faded into oblivion.
But there were a precious few (one being the friend who contacted me this week) who buck the norm. I have always said that I've had so many "fair weather friends" that I could've been a weatherman. I take friendship very seriously. I place a lot of importance to friendship. And I feel a good friendship is worth some kind of investment from both persons. It's quality over quantity...meaning that the intensity of a friendship outweigh the frequency one tries to stay in touch. At least it's that way for me. I realize that life throws up a lot of distractions & interruptions. And sometimes friendships get shelved for a few years.
This is one instance where a true friendship just got placed on a shelf for several years & has now been taken down. It just needs a little dusting & cleaning...and soon will look just as fresh & vibrant as it was 25 years ago. How many shelved friendships do you have? Is it time to bring out the featherduster? Dusting off a shelved friendship will stir things up a bit just as cleaning some dusty relics from the attic can stir up your allergies. But it's worth the awkwardness of reconnection to be able to enjoy the warmth of a good friend you haven't heard from in a long time.
I have had a warmth inside of me these last few days that I haven't had in many years just because I heard from long, lost friend. I have not been able to get this friend off my mind since hearing from him. And despite the huge gap in our relationship, suddenly I feel closer to him now than if we had been next door neighbors for these past 25 years.
I guess genuine, good friends tend to do that.
Which got me to thinking how time and separation really alters reality. Friendships I had with folks I was close to in high school suddenly have an awkwardness to them. It's as if I'm trying to grasp for good leveridge! Why is that? I know that lots of water has run under the bridge...which includes a spouse, kids, career, and the evolving of one's maturity.
I was able to talk to one of these long, lost friends on the phone this weekend. Talk about stammering all over myself. My mind was racing to find some common bond that had a 25 year gap in the middle. It was only after I had the chance to digest our much-belated reunion did I begin to formulate some cognitive feelings about my friend & our friendship.
In high school, well... in school period, I was not what you would call one of the kids voted most popular. If they had the category of "Butt of All Jokes", I would have won with flying colors. That's some of the blessings of growing up for 12 years in the same small town school district. So, I'm not exactly what you'd call very excited about tracing any of my old high school classmates to see where they are now. I have never been to a high school reunion nor do I have the urge to do so. I can count on one hand the number of classmates I would even want to know what has traspired in their lives. In fact, the one classmate I was best friends with early on in my grade school years seems to have faded into oblivion.
But there were a precious few (one being the friend who contacted me this week) who buck the norm. I have always said that I've had so many "fair weather friends" that I could've been a weatherman. I take friendship very seriously. I place a lot of importance to friendship. And I feel a good friendship is worth some kind of investment from both persons. It's quality over quantity...meaning that the intensity of a friendship outweigh the frequency one tries to stay in touch. At least it's that way for me. I realize that life throws up a lot of distractions & interruptions. And sometimes friendships get shelved for a few years.
This is one instance where a true friendship just got placed on a shelf for several years & has now been taken down. It just needs a little dusting & cleaning...and soon will look just as fresh & vibrant as it was 25 years ago. How many shelved friendships do you have? Is it time to bring out the featherduster? Dusting off a shelved friendship will stir things up a bit just as cleaning some dusty relics from the attic can stir up your allergies. But it's worth the awkwardness of reconnection to be able to enjoy the warmth of a good friend you haven't heard from in a long time.
I have had a warmth inside of me these last few days that I haven't had in many years just because I heard from long, lost friend. I have not been able to get this friend off my mind since hearing from him. And despite the huge gap in our relationship, suddenly I feel closer to him now than if we had been next door neighbors for these past 25 years.
I guess genuine, good friends tend to do that.
2.09.2005
Outta Control At Four?
My oldest boy, at the tender age of 4 1/2 has already started showing signs of blatant lying...and he genuinely thinks that he is snowing me with his serious attempt at veiling the truth of the situation. There is nothing that will sober up a parent from the thought that they are in total control of their child as trying to compete with a toddler who is convinced that mommy or daddy is buying the schpeel they are feeding.
I makes me feel like I am loosing control of my children and they haven't even reached puberty yet, much less started having feelings for the opposite sex. But as I ponder this, I am also made aware that this is exactly how God feels. As a parent, I am partly responsible for bringing a new life into the world. God is primarily responsible for creating life into this world...namely, mankind. For a parent there is a nice 3 to 4 year honeymoon where everything you say is soaked up into the little developing brain of that child. Then suddently, that little brain gets a mind of its own & thinks it can pull a shiner over mommy & daddy.
We, too, think that after a few years as a new Christian, we know more than our Creator. Wonder if God feels any worse than a parent does? Each time our child lies or somehow breaks a trust that was established between us as their parent, we should be reminded that this is the same situation God finds Himself in when we act out of our own desires or persuasions instead of following His. We wash our kid's mouth out with soap or send them to their room or even execute corporal punishment when we find our child has committed some atrocity. How does God treat us when we break fellowship with Him?
He does discipline us when we err...and how do we react? Do we react the same way our children do when we reproove or correct tthem? My 4-year old cries profusely & shows great contrition and repentance when he is corrected...it' s more than obvious that he desires to have a restored fellowship with me...that he doesn't want to have this feeling of being severed from his connection to his father. Do we crave to be restored in such a way when God corrects or reprooves us?
While I may feel that my son may be out of control at the tender age of 4, I'm sure there are many times God may think I am out of control at the ripe old age of 40.
I makes me feel like I am loosing control of my children and they haven't even reached puberty yet, much less started having feelings for the opposite sex. But as I ponder this, I am also made aware that this is exactly how God feels. As a parent, I am partly responsible for bringing a new life into the world. God is primarily responsible for creating life into this world...namely, mankind. For a parent there is a nice 3 to 4 year honeymoon where everything you say is soaked up into the little developing brain of that child. Then suddently, that little brain gets a mind of its own & thinks it can pull a shiner over mommy & daddy.
We, too, think that after a few years as a new Christian, we know more than our Creator. Wonder if God feels any worse than a parent does? Each time our child lies or somehow breaks a trust that was established between us as their parent, we should be reminded that this is the same situation God finds Himself in when we act out of our own desires or persuasions instead of following His. We wash our kid's mouth out with soap or send them to their room or even execute corporal punishment when we find our child has committed some atrocity. How does God treat us when we break fellowship with Him?
He does discipline us when we err...and how do we react? Do we react the same way our children do when we reproove or correct tthem? My 4-year old cries profusely & shows great contrition and repentance when he is corrected...it' s more than obvious that he desires to have a restored fellowship with me...that he doesn't want to have this feeling of being severed from his connection to his father. Do we crave to be restored in such a way when God corrects or reprooves us?
While I may feel that my son may be out of control at the tender age of 4, I'm sure there are many times God may think I am out of control at the ripe old age of 40.
2.03.2005
Charley
I read in my hometown newspaper recently of the passing of a man everyone knew at my home church as "Charley". Charley Rhoads was, at one time, the custodian of the church & he was meticulous in making sure every light was out & everything was in its place before locking the doors.
Charley never seemed to have a bad day.
He never greeted you without a wide smile & a loud voice that stuttered so bad, it would take him a half-hour to ask directions. You could hear Charley for blocks away when he carried on a normal conversation. Charley was mentally handicapped.
Charlie was married to his wife, also mentally handicapped, for years. She would sit with him during church worship services & would smile nervously when Charley began his loud converstaions. It was obvious that they were meant for each other.
I remember one day, as a high school student, sitting in morning worship in church after a stirring sermon. The invitation came, the organ played Just As I Am softly as the congregation held onto the pews in front of them Every head bowed - every eye closed during this reflective moment of contemplation & conviction.
Suddenly, from my left, a shrill, high-pitched wail began that instantly stopped my heart. I had never heard such a thing in all my years of attending a Southern Baptist church. I glanced over to where this intrusive noise was coming from & saw Charley...in the asile...one leg up in the air and hands raised. Smiling and shouting with unbridled jubilation. I was far too scared to realize what was happening, but by the time the worship service was over, hardly a dry eye was found in the sacturary.
The only time I ever would hear Charley speak softly or without his acute stutter was when he was either praying or singing. Then, his enunciation & volume was perfect every time.
I am certain, right now, Heaven is a far more jovial place now that Charlie's made it Home.
Charley never seemed to have a bad day.
He never greeted you without a wide smile & a loud voice that stuttered so bad, it would take him a half-hour to ask directions. You could hear Charley for blocks away when he carried on a normal conversation. Charley was mentally handicapped.
Charlie was married to his wife, also mentally handicapped, for years. She would sit with him during church worship services & would smile nervously when Charley began his loud converstaions. It was obvious that they were meant for each other.
I remember one day, as a high school student, sitting in morning worship in church after a stirring sermon. The invitation came, the organ played Just As I Am softly as the congregation held onto the pews in front of them Every head bowed - every eye closed during this reflective moment of contemplation & conviction.
Suddenly, from my left, a shrill, high-pitched wail began that instantly stopped my heart. I had never heard such a thing in all my years of attending a Southern Baptist church. I glanced over to where this intrusive noise was coming from & saw Charley...in the asile...one leg up in the air and hands raised. Smiling and shouting with unbridled jubilation. I was far too scared to realize what was happening, but by the time the worship service was over, hardly a dry eye was found in the sacturary.
The only time I ever would hear Charley speak softly or without his acute stutter was when he was either praying or singing. Then, his enunciation & volume was perfect every time.
I am certain, right now, Heaven is a far more jovial place now that Charlie's made it Home.
1.31.2005
I Can Cingular Your Cellular From Here
I guess I have held out long enough. I have capitulated & have agreed to throw out the antiquated telephone that has been anchored down to a plug in a wall (or at leasted tethered by an invisible "cord" that has tied my handset to a small cordless base). I have finally surrendered to the world of wireless telephony.
For years, I thought the whole cellular craze was nothing more than wireless tele-phooey because what I saw was more money being paid on a device that I already was paying enough money on to begin with. Then, in order to use these things, one would have to stand on one foot, face the south-southwest, hope the breeze was blowing from the east-northeast & that all of the cosmic forces & solar waves were working in tandem so that the conversation would be heard. Oh, and of course there is the necessity of having to always say, "Can you hear me now?"
Nah. That was more trouble than it was worth.
But times have changed. Now the cost for a cellular phone is compatible to what is being paid for "land lines" and the coverage is pretty good -- depending on what "plan" you have. I can't help remembering my dearly departed pastor who I had while attending college. He would always say, "God has a plan for every man and a man for every plan." Now wouldn't that be a clever by-line for an upcoming Christian wireless telephone service? I found a "plan" that works & is affordable. And, since I am on the road a lot, my wife would really like one "in case of an emergency". Emergency? If I'm lying in a pool of my own blood from a near-fatal car wreck, do you think I'm going to call anyone to tell them not to keep supper warm?
At any rate, the rate that I got was within a good price range, and I can actually "port" my once land-line-tied residential number over to my new cellular phone. Then, we get a second phone for a few more dollars. Now, I can plan my plans around my plan....
I hope I'm not confusing you.
But, I'm not planning on having my new cell phone planted on my ear while waiting in line to get my Whopper. And I'm not going to be trying to finish my sentence before I "drop out of coverage" while navigating through downtown Pittsburgh. There may be many times I may just send your call to my voicemail if I'm talking to someone in person. No. My cell phone will not control me. I will control it. If it rings, I may answer it.
I have to watch my "anytime minutes", you know.
For years, I thought the whole cellular craze was nothing more than wireless tele-phooey because what I saw was more money being paid on a device that I already was paying enough money on to begin with. Then, in order to use these things, one would have to stand on one foot, face the south-southwest, hope the breeze was blowing from the east-northeast & that all of the cosmic forces & solar waves were working in tandem so that the conversation would be heard. Oh, and of course there is the necessity of having to always say, "Can you hear me now?"
Nah. That was more trouble than it was worth.
But times have changed. Now the cost for a cellular phone is compatible to what is being paid for "land lines" and the coverage is pretty good -- depending on what "plan" you have. I can't help remembering my dearly departed pastor who I had while attending college. He would always say, "God has a plan for every man and a man for every plan." Now wouldn't that be a clever by-line for an upcoming Christian wireless telephone service? I found a "plan" that works & is affordable. And, since I am on the road a lot, my wife would really like one "in case of an emergency". Emergency? If I'm lying in a pool of my own blood from a near-fatal car wreck, do you think I'm going to call anyone to tell them not to keep supper warm?
At any rate, the rate that I got was within a good price range, and I can actually "port" my once land-line-tied residential number over to my new cellular phone. Then, we get a second phone for a few more dollars. Now, I can plan my plans around my plan....
I hope I'm not confusing you.
But, I'm not planning on having my new cell phone planted on my ear while waiting in line to get my Whopper. And I'm not going to be trying to finish my sentence before I "drop out of coverage" while navigating through downtown Pittsburgh. There may be many times I may just send your call to my voicemail if I'm talking to someone in person. No. My cell phone will not control me. I will control it. If it rings, I may answer it.
I have to watch my "anytime minutes", you know.
1.27.2005
Resetting The Counter
When we "zero" the counter, we begin a fresh start. We loose whatever data was accumulated prior to our resetting the counter. We prepare to start a new project.
Such is my situation. Some choose to reset their counter. Others have it reset for them. Mine was more or less reset for me. I left one job which I had become ensconced for almost 18 years. I had developed ruts deep enough to lose a Humvee. I had my routine tattooed on the back of my brain. Then, after a geographic move to a new location & about a 8 month sabbatical, I took on new responsibilities with new accountability. Then, due to situations beyond my control, and before I had begun to create much of a rut, I was looking for a new job again in less than 6 months.
Then, it was the delirious task of refocusing my career goals, reassesing my talents & abilities, and reexamining my enthusiasm. When, luck would have it, an opening happened in my exact career field, I applied for it. Several weeks later, I received an email notifying me of an impending interview. More waiting...and then a phone call to schedule & confirm an interview. I had no axiety about interviewing..in fact, for me, I view these more of an adventure than I do a dirge.
Then there was a surprise... I was told of the company's health benefits & how much vacation time I would be getting. And then, the request for a second interview. I tried not to get my hopes up. That always jinxes things. So, I went to the 2nd interview with the same mental attitude as the first one. By the time I had finished my 2nd interview, I was quite sure I was seeing veiled satisfaction in the choosing of the right candidate. Yet, no mention of how much were they going to pay me...! I still held my tongue. They had said they would be sending me a "written proposal".
I have received this proposal in the mail today & it appears to be satisfactory. Now the counter gets set to zero. New responsibilites, new accountabilities, new duties, new expectations...new people. Heck, I'm going to the the new person...! I read over the duties (none of which I am incapable of doing) and NOW the anxiety tries to creep in. How long will it take for the "new" to wear off of this new position? How will my actions & my motives be "read" by my new co-workers? Are there expectations of me that I do not know about that I will discover? Ack! I have to stop thinking.
I'm just going to reset the trip counter & drive.
Such is my situation. Some choose to reset their counter. Others have it reset for them. Mine was more or less reset for me. I left one job which I had become ensconced for almost 18 years. I had developed ruts deep enough to lose a Humvee. I had my routine tattooed on the back of my brain. Then, after a geographic move to a new location & about a 8 month sabbatical, I took on new responsibilities with new accountability. Then, due to situations beyond my control, and before I had begun to create much of a rut, I was looking for a new job again in less than 6 months.
Then, it was the delirious task of refocusing my career goals, reassesing my talents & abilities, and reexamining my enthusiasm. When, luck would have it, an opening happened in my exact career field, I applied for it. Several weeks later, I received an email notifying me of an impending interview. More waiting...and then a phone call to schedule & confirm an interview. I had no axiety about interviewing..in fact, for me, I view these more of an adventure than I do a dirge.
Then there was a surprise... I was told of the company's health benefits & how much vacation time I would be getting. And then, the request for a second interview. I tried not to get my hopes up. That always jinxes things. So, I went to the 2nd interview with the same mental attitude as the first one. By the time I had finished my 2nd interview, I was quite sure I was seeing veiled satisfaction in the choosing of the right candidate. Yet, no mention of how much were they going to pay me...! I still held my tongue. They had said they would be sending me a "written proposal".
I have received this proposal in the mail today & it appears to be satisfactory. Now the counter gets set to zero. New responsibilites, new accountabilities, new duties, new expectations...new people. Heck, I'm going to the the new person...! I read over the duties (none of which I am incapable of doing) and NOW the anxiety tries to creep in. How long will it take for the "new" to wear off of this new position? How will my actions & my motives be "read" by my new co-workers? Are there expectations of me that I do not know about that I will discover? Ack! I have to stop thinking.
I'm just going to reset the trip counter & drive.
1.24.2005
As You Go Into The World... Impose the Gospel?
The Great Commission, found in Matthew 28 in the New Testament, has been the stimulus for countless Believers to spread the Truth - found in Jesus Christ - about how to become intimate with our Creator/God.
When the phrase "make disciples" is used, it means literally "instruct" or "and disciple" all nations. I've never read where it means to make someone into a disciple. Yet, some over-enterprising Christians are flying over to Indonesia & surrounding areas with the indication of helping the tsunami relief efforts. But are clandestine, instead, by taking advantage of this tragedy by using this event as an "opportunity" to also proselytize the locals into converting to Christianity. FoxNews reported over the weekend that now the governments in the Indonesian nations are now ready to send the Christians back home because they don't want their "help".
Can you blame them?
The Gospel of Jesus Christ is an imposition in and of itself... Why make it even more imposing by inconsideratly dumping the Gospel upon a people who - right now need to have clean clothes, food, a house...? Right now, they don't need to hear about Jesus...they need to see Jesus.
I'm all for telling folks about the greatest event of my life: The day I chose to receive the greatest Gift from God...the Gift of Eternal Life... offered by believing in His Son, Jesus. How I want to shout it from every mountaintop. But, as my late father would always say, "Your freedom stops at the end of your nose." How sad that some Believers feel they need to stick their noses into another person's faith without first earning the right to do this by first meeting a basic need.
When will we learn to stop trying to usurp the job of the Holy Spirit & just do what is right in front of our eyes? We are the paintbrush. We are the charcoal pencil. We are the surgical tool. We are not the Artist, or Master Surgeon. I think many times, God is merely wanting a skin graft & we make an incision...because we "know" what the Surgeon really wants. Do we?
How much more effective & enriched we would be if we would just consider first sharing our lives with those who do not know Him? Maybe then, we may be more effective in getting the Good News across to those who really want to know more of Him.
The Great Commission
16 The 11 disciples traveled to Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had directed them. 17 When they saw Him, they worshiped, but some doubted. 18 Then Jesus came near and said to them, "All authority has been given to Me in heaven and on earth. 19 Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, 20 teaching them to observe everything I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age." [Matthew 28 - Holman CSB]
When the phrase "make disciples" is used, it means literally "instruct" or "and disciple" all nations. I've never read where it means to make someone into a disciple. Yet, some over-enterprising Christians are flying over to Indonesia & surrounding areas with the indication of helping the tsunami relief efforts. But are clandestine, instead, by taking advantage of this tragedy by using this event as an "opportunity" to also proselytize the locals into converting to Christianity. FoxNews reported over the weekend that now the governments in the Indonesian nations are now ready to send the Christians back home because they don't want their "help".
Can you blame them?
The Gospel of Jesus Christ is an imposition in and of itself... Why make it even more imposing by inconsideratly dumping the Gospel upon a people who - right now need to have clean clothes, food, a house...? Right now, they don't need to hear about Jesus...they need to see Jesus.
I'm all for telling folks about the greatest event of my life: The day I chose to receive the greatest Gift from God...the Gift of Eternal Life... offered by believing in His Son, Jesus. How I want to shout it from every mountaintop. But, as my late father would always say, "Your freedom stops at the end of your nose." How sad that some Believers feel they need to stick their noses into another person's faith without first earning the right to do this by first meeting a basic need.
When will we learn to stop trying to usurp the job of the Holy Spirit & just do what is right in front of our eyes? We are the paintbrush. We are the charcoal pencil. We are the surgical tool. We are not the Artist, or Master Surgeon. I think many times, God is merely wanting a skin graft & we make an incision...because we "know" what the Surgeon really wants. Do we?
7 Although we could have been a burden as Christ’s apostles,
instead we were gentle (infants) among you, as a nursing mother nurtures her own children. 8 We cared so much for you that we were pleased to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own lives, because you had become dear to us. [1 Thes. 2 - Holman CSB]
How much more effective & enriched we would be if we would just consider first sharing our lives with those who do not know Him? Maybe then, we may be more effective in getting the Good News across to those who really want to know more of Him.
1.19.2005
"Meeting" Jesus
Recently, I was asked by a person who visited my website about a term that I normally take for granted and which I had included in my website. They indicated they were impressed about how I had "met Jesus in 1976" and wanted to know more about how I did that.
So I got to thinking, "How does one actually 'meet Jesus'?" Do you meet Him walking down Broadway? Do you meet Him sitting in the loo? Do you bump into Him in crowded airport terminal? I guess the term, "met Jesus" is a cliche of sorts. When I see - or use - this reference, I define it more as a personal relationship with God...through Jesus. When I was a mere 13, I knew I needed to make a knowledgeable decision that I cannot control my own destiny...that I may be able to have some hand in my physical life - my career, my "soul mate", my goals, etc. But I have no control over what happens to me after I die. And that only God, my Creator, held the balance of eternity...but it was me who had to choose to allow God to take control of my eternal destiny.
If I continued doing things my own way..to include eternity... I knew I would fail. I would be trying to control an aspect that was out of my control. So, I chose to place my eternal destiny into the control of the Lord. And from what I believe in the Bible, the only Person able to bridge the gap was Jesus. So, I prayed to Him & asked Him to be my Source - my Lord, my Saviour - in my life. I asked Him to be my "go-between" with God to restore a right relationship with my Creator,
Now, let me say that this was not based on an emotional feel. It was based on what I read from the Bible and believed as a fact. It was all based on my response to what was written in the Bible & upon my response to Who I chose to believe God was. There are times that I do not feel I have ever "met Jesus", and must rely upon the fact that God did as He promised He would do if anyone would follow His Son.
Catastrophic events like the Asian tsunami really shake a person's faith. But, we must remember that God set the creation in motion based on laws He established. Then man comes along & messes with creation & throws things off balance. God, I believe, does not cause things like this tsunami ...and I feel it grieves His heart to see tragedies like this. But since He lives in the hearts of those who have chosen to follow Him (by "meeting Jesus"), He is able to be present at the scene of disaster through those who respond to aid, rescue, and comfort. It is an opportunity for God's Love to be the "tsunami" of Grace to those in need.
I believe that too many people put too much faith in the "feeling" or the event itself of meeting Jesus. I think it's more about what one is willing to believe as "fact" and what their response to this fact will be. I know the Bible says that God even helps his Children love Him...when they are unable to do so by themselves. Don't ask me how that happens, but I have to believe, by faith, that it does!
So, how did you "meet Jesus"? It's quite possible that you may have already met Him and don't recogize it. Just like those who met Him on the road to Emmaus:
As you walk down your own "Emmaus Road", take time to listen.
So I got to thinking, "How does one actually 'meet Jesus'?" Do you meet Him walking down Broadway? Do you meet Him sitting in the loo? Do you bump into Him in crowded airport terminal? I guess the term, "met Jesus" is a cliche of sorts. When I see - or use - this reference, I define it more as a personal relationship with God...through Jesus. When I was a mere 13, I knew I needed to make a knowledgeable decision that I cannot control my own destiny...that I may be able to have some hand in my physical life - my career, my "soul mate", my goals, etc. But I have no control over what happens to me after I die. And that only God, my Creator, held the balance of eternity...but it was me who had to choose to allow God to take control of my eternal destiny.
If I continued doing things my own way..to include eternity... I knew I would fail. I would be trying to control an aspect that was out of my control. So, I chose to place my eternal destiny into the control of the Lord. And from what I believe in the Bible, the only Person able to bridge the gap was Jesus. So, I prayed to Him & asked Him to be my Source - my Lord, my Saviour - in my life. I asked Him to be my "go-between" with God to restore a right relationship with my Creator,
Now, let me say that this was not based on an emotional feel. It was based on what I read from the Bible and believed as a fact. It was all based on my response to what was written in the Bible & upon my response to Who I chose to believe God was. There are times that I do not feel I have ever "met Jesus", and must rely upon the fact that God did as He promised He would do if anyone would follow His Son.
Catastrophic events like the Asian tsunami really shake a person's faith. But, we must remember that God set the creation in motion based on laws He established. Then man comes along & messes with creation & throws things off balance. God, I believe, does not cause things like this tsunami ...and I feel it grieves His heart to see tragedies like this. But since He lives in the hearts of those who have chosen to follow Him (by "meeting Jesus"), He is able to be present at the scene of disaster through those who respond to aid, rescue, and comfort. It is an opportunity for God's Love to be the "tsunami" of Grace to those in need.
I believe that too many people put too much faith in the "feeling" or the event itself of meeting Jesus. I think it's more about what one is willing to believe as "fact" and what their response to this fact will be. I know the Bible says that God even helps his Children love Him...when they are unable to do so by themselves. Don't ask me how that happens, but I have to believe, by faith, that it does!
So, how did you "meet Jesus"? It's quite possible that you may have already met Him and don't recogize it. Just like those who met Him on the road to Emmaus:
The Emmaus Disciples
13 Now that same day two of them were on their way to a village called Emmaus, which was about seven miles from Jerusalem. 14 Together they were discussing everything that had taken place. 15 And while they were discussing and arguing, Jesus Himself came near and began to walk along with them. 16 But they were prevented from recognizing Him. 17 Then He asked them, “What is this dispute that you’re having as you are walking?” And they stopped [walking and looked]* discouraged.
18 The one named Cleopas answered Him, “Are You the only visitor in Jerusalem who doesn’t know the things that happened there in these days?”
19 “What things?” He asked them.
So they said to Him, “The things concerning Jesus the Nazarene, who was a Prophet powerful in action and speech before God and all the people, 20 and how our chief priests and leaders handed Him over to be sentenced to death, and they crucified Him. 21 But we were hoping that He was the One who was about to redeem Israel. Besides all this, it’s the third day since these things happened. 22 Moreover, some women from our group astounded us. They arrived early at the tomb, 23 and when they didn’t find His body, they came and reported that they had seen a vision of angels who said He was alive. 24 Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said, but they didn’t see Him.”
25 He said to them, “How unwise and slow you are to believe in your hearts all that the prophets have spoken! 26 Didn’t the Messiah have to suffer these things and enter into His glory?” 27 Then beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, He interpreted for them the things concerning Himself in all the Scriptures.
28 They came near the village where they were going, and He gave the impression that He was going farther. 29 But they urged Him: “Stay with us, because it’s almost evening, and now the day is almost over.” So He went in to stay with them.
30 It was as He reclined at the table with them that He took the bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. 31 Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized Him, but He disappeared from their sight. 32 So they said to each other, “Weren’t our hearts ablaze within us while He was talking with us on the road and explaining the Scriptures to us?” 33 That very hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem. They found the Eleven and those with them gathered together, 34 who said, “The Lord has certainly been raised, and has appeared to Simon!” 35 Then they began to describe what had happened on the road and how He was made known to them in the breaking of the bread. (Luke 24 - The Holman Christian Standard Bible)
As you walk down your own "Emmaus Road", take time to listen.
1.17.2005
Embracing Generosity
I have always had trouble with taking charity. It is so demeaning. Geezh, I feel like a heel when someone wants to pass off some kind of money on to me ...like I'm accepting food stamps. I don't need the pity of anyone. I want to be the one in control of the situation...I want to be the one to toss a few bones to people who I feel need them more than I do. I want to appear as the "giant of a man" who steps in to sweep a person away from desparation. I have serious issues with anyone who wants to sweep me away from mine.
I embrace generosity like I embrace a wet kiss from my great Aunt Eva.
Until one day, a kid. Yeah...a kid. A high school sophomore. This boy who was still wet behind the ears began to threaten my secure status of how I approached generosity.
When I was in college, I would make the occasional weekend trips home to my "home church". And there was this sweet, frail, white-haired little ol' lady who just adored me. No... she fawned all over me. She would find me like a heat-seeking missle. And she would lavish me with praise & adoration. I felt like crawling into a hole. Lordy, she would carry on something terrible! And, she would clasp her hands together & exclaim, "Oh, Phil! I am so proud of you!!! I just think you are sooo wonderful!" SERIOUSLY! It was awful! And I would have to stand there & suffer through her doting.
Then, one day as she grabbed my hand (as she commonly did every time I saw her), I felt something inside. This poor old woman slipped me, a college Junior, a $20 bill!! What is this woman thinking???? I can't take her money! Good grief! I had a dad who was the local accountant & I didn't need to be taking her money. But, there was no convincing this crazy woman otherwise. With great pain, I agreed to keep the cabbage.
Then, this high school sophomore put me in my place... I was recalling this harrowing experience to this kid. And this boy had the gall to tell me, "You know, if you don't learn to receive, God will not let you give." Ouch! Well, that got me thinking.... I know it frustrates me greatly when my generosity is spurned by someone. Yet here I was, spurning (even if it were subconsciously) the giving of other people right & left.
Embracing generosity means swallowing hard and letting someone be greater than yourself. And that is NOT comfortable. It is very awkward. It is putting oneself in a position to be at the mercy of another. And not feeling as if you are manipulating that person. It is humbling...not humiliating. And when I can get past the issue of pride & control, it is the most soothing feeling on earth.
I can best describe this as the act of hugging another. Most of the time when I hug a person,I tend to focus on my act of hugging the other person rather than focusing on the other person's act of hugging me -- like I'm in control. I tend to feel the act of initiating the hug...not receiving the hug from the other. Let me illustrate.
Years ago, a tragic fire claimed the life of a small baby. It was caused by the carlessness of several young adults & youth who were drinking. A small child knocked over a candle & the entire house was engulfed in flames in a matter of minutes. One of the youth tried to save as many as he could but this small child could not be rescued. He needed to express his grief & his desparation in trying to save this child & asked that he be allowed to do so at the start of a live concert that was to be performed at the local Christian youth center, where I volunteered. We did not know what to expect, nor knew what this kid would say. But once he expressed his grief (and he was a "tough guy", complete with a scarf tied around his head) to the crowd, he then broke down in tears. He turned to me & the others from the youth center standing behind him & we all hugged him as he cried. His full weight was upon me & the others...not having the stamina to hug anyone back. We basically supported him as his knees weakened with grief.
When I speak of embracing generosity, I think of an embrace. When I am embraced by another, I am surrounded by that person & I'm allowing myself to be supported by the embrace of the other person. Much like this kid who was being embraced by those supporting him in his intense grief. I am learning how to be supported by the generosity of another...and to quit trying to support myself by being so dang cocky.
I embrace generosity like I embrace a wet kiss from my great Aunt Eva.
Until one day, a kid. Yeah...a kid. A high school sophomore. This boy who was still wet behind the ears began to threaten my secure status of how I approached generosity.
When I was in college, I would make the occasional weekend trips home to my "home church". And there was this sweet, frail, white-haired little ol' lady who just adored me. No... she fawned all over me. She would find me like a heat-seeking missle. And she would lavish me with praise & adoration. I felt like crawling into a hole. Lordy, she would carry on something terrible! And, she would clasp her hands together & exclaim, "Oh, Phil! I am so proud of you!!! I just think you are sooo wonderful!" SERIOUSLY! It was awful! And I would have to stand there & suffer through her doting.
Then, one day as she grabbed my hand (as she commonly did every time I saw her), I felt something inside. This poor old woman slipped me, a college Junior, a $20 bill!! What is this woman thinking???? I can't take her money! Good grief! I had a dad who was the local accountant & I didn't need to be taking her money. But, there was no convincing this crazy woman otherwise. With great pain, I agreed to keep the cabbage.
Then, this high school sophomore put me in my place... I was recalling this harrowing experience to this kid. And this boy had the gall to tell me, "You know, if you don't learn to receive, God will not let you give." Ouch! Well, that got me thinking.... I know it frustrates me greatly when my generosity is spurned by someone. Yet here I was, spurning (even if it were subconsciously) the giving of other people right & left.
Embracing generosity means swallowing hard and letting someone be greater than yourself. And that is NOT comfortable. It is very awkward. It is putting oneself in a position to be at the mercy of another. And not feeling as if you are manipulating that person. It is humbling...not humiliating. And when I can get past the issue of pride & control, it is the most soothing feeling on earth.
I can best describe this as the act of hugging another. Most of the time when I hug a person,I tend to focus on my act of hugging the other person rather than focusing on the other person's act of hugging me -- like I'm in control. I tend to feel the act of initiating the hug...not receiving the hug from the other. Let me illustrate.
Years ago, a tragic fire claimed the life of a small baby. It was caused by the carlessness of several young adults & youth who were drinking. A small child knocked over a candle & the entire house was engulfed in flames in a matter of minutes. One of the youth tried to save as many as he could but this small child could not be rescued. He needed to express his grief & his desparation in trying to save this child & asked that he be allowed to do so at the start of a live concert that was to be performed at the local Christian youth center, where I volunteered. We did not know what to expect, nor knew what this kid would say. But once he expressed his grief (and he was a "tough guy", complete with a scarf tied around his head) to the crowd, he then broke down in tears. He turned to me & the others from the youth center standing behind him & we all hugged him as he cried. His full weight was upon me & the others...not having the stamina to hug anyone back. We basically supported him as his knees weakened with grief.
When I speak of embracing generosity, I think of an embrace. When I am embraced by another, I am surrounded by that person & I'm allowing myself to be supported by the embrace of the other person. Much like this kid who was being embraced by those supporting him in his intense grief. I am learning how to be supported by the generosity of another...and to quit trying to support myself by being so dang cocky.
1.16.2005
Water In A Glass
My Dad was a survivor of the Depression. He was a survivor of a fatal disease that claimed the life of his Dad when he was merely a teenager. Then, that same disease struck him & put him in a sanitorium where he was isolated from the rest of humanity until a cure was found for tuberculosis. His grandfather raised him along with his mother, who also had 3 other boys and one lone girl to boot to take care of as well. And do you think he had a dim view on life? Not on your life. He always looked at the proverbial glass of water as "half-full". He went on to start his own accounting business, which lasted over 40 years under his ownership before he sold it upon his retirement. It's still in business, as of today.
Dad was also one who drank in words of wisdom from other successful men. Men who were motivated by their internal "drive" to look at life the same way he did. One of his early influences was a man by the name of Earl Nightingale. I remember watching Dad early in the morning as he was getting ready to go to work, in the bathroom shaving & blasting Earl Nightingale cassettes at the same time. Here is some of what Dad learned from this visionary:
Nightingale began early in life looking for the answer to this question: “How can a person, starting from scratch, who has no particular advantage in the world, reach the goals that he feels are important to him, and by so doing, make a major contribution to others?” Now, do you wonder if everyone asked this same question today, if there would be any "social victims" left?
Dad also read books by Dale Carnagie. Here are a few good pointers from the man who gave us the book, How to Win Friends And Influence People:
Dad was also one who drank in words of wisdom from other successful men. Men who were motivated by their internal "drive" to look at life the same way he did. One of his early influences was a man by the name of Earl Nightingale. I remember watching Dad early in the morning as he was getting ready to go to work, in the bathroom shaving & blasting Earl Nightingale cassettes at the same time. Here is some of what Dad learned from this visionary:
Learn to enjoy every minute of your
life. Be happy now. Don't wait for something outside of yourself to make you
happy in the future. Think how really precious is the time you have to spend,
whether it's at work or with your family. Every minute should be enjoyed and
savored.
Our attitude towards others
determines their attitude towards us.
People are where they are because
that is exactly where they really want to be - whether they will admit that or
not.
The biggest mistake that you can
make is to believe that you are working for somebody else. Job security is gone.
The driving force of a career must come from the individual. Remember: Jobs are
owned by the company, you own your career.
Wherever there is danger, there
lurks opportunity; whenever there is opportunity, there lurks danger. The two
are inseparable. They go together.
Nightingale began early in life looking for the answer to this question: “How can a person, starting from scratch, who has no particular advantage in the world, reach the goals that he feels are important to him, and by so doing, make a major contribution to others?” Now, do you wonder if everyone asked this same question today, if there would be any "social victims" left?
Dad also read books by Dale Carnagie. Here are a few good pointers from the man who gave us the book, How to Win Friends And Influence People:
It just amazes me when I am around those who just can't seem to find one positve thing about the situation they're in. I realize sometimes life may resemble an ugly, smelly old jackass...but you do have a choice in whether or not you want to look at the front or the back end of it.
I've read a few of Dale's books, as I also did from Norman Vincent Peale (of the Guideposts Magazine fame) & his classic The Power of Positive Thinking. These books & philosophy have revolutionized the way I approach life.
My Dad died in 2002 from complications of Alzheimer's Disease at the age of 70 having sold his accounting practices in two different towns in Arkansas. He also was a Paul Harris Fellow of Rotary International, a former Director for First Western Bank in my hometown, and a former Jaycee member. Oh, and not too many folks in town had never heard of my Dad, either. And they all knew him fondly as, "good ol' Billy Dale".
Not too bad for a fellow who was raised in southwest Arkansas on a poor farm eating so much poke salat & turnip greens that his mother had to put coal oil around his ankles at night to keep the cutworms from getting him.
1.14.2005
A Deep-Rooted "Stubborn Streak"
The Leslies were a stalwart race, strong in body and mind, and in these days of ‘rugging and riving’ contrived to obtain a large share both of territory and influence, not only in Scotland but in several Continental countries. No Scottish surname, indeed, has been more widely known than theirs, or more famous, on the Continent.
I've been told I'm just like all the other "bull-headed Leslies". Well, I get it from a long line of my ancestors. In fact, I'm absolutely head over heels infatuated with anything having to do with Scotland, and especially the Scottish Highlands of Garioch...near the town of Insch & the small village of Leslie.
One of my life's dreams is to spend a couple of weeks basking in the atmosphere of this sacred locale of Bonnie Scotland. I have maps of the region & enough websites bookmarked to fill a small library. I have been seeking penpals from Aberdeenshire, Scotland and read online newspapers from this region of the country. I collect anything of the Leslie tartan to wear. If I had the money, I'd buy a kilt in a New York second. And I'd wear it proudly.
I think everyone ought to get into their family history with this much tenacity. It's so incredibly rewarding to read about the historical events that shaped the person you are today. I've seen in my own family heritage a similar trend in my relatives, myself, and my own children that was a prominent streak in my ancestors.
I am even feebly trying to learn Gaelic. So far, I've maganged to get half way through the first chapter. In just about 1 1/2 years. I've even purchased a book on how to talk in "ScotSpeak"...by using different dialects from the different regions of Scotland. It has a CD to actually hear how the natives speak.
So if I'm told that I'm bull-headed, stubborn, headstrong, "stalwart".... I'll just smile with pride.
1.11.2005
Authentic Friendship
I must be a rare breed.
Growing up, I was constantly picked on from my classmates. I've had so many "fair weather" friends, I really should be a weatherman. I was the "average" guy in school. Never did anything really outstanding. Never was athletic, never had any interest in competing for anything... I just enjoy life.
Those who think they know me always seem certain I'm an extrovert. But in actuality, I do not feed upon being the center of attention. In fact, I'm quite uncomfortable with it. I can survive if I'm placed in a situation where the spotlight is focused upon me. I don't get convulsions or start gagging for air. I can hold my own pretty much. I've spoken at 8th Grade graduations and I've been on a stage with over 70,000 people in the audience.
I've been with celebrities and I've actually interviewed a United States Senator for a radio program.
Alone.
In my own car.
With no one else around.
As I drove him to the airport.
But, I really prefer a small circle of friends. Not just friends in the general term. Bur friends. Authentic friends. I have more acquaintences than I can possibly imagine. But I only have a very few friends. And, I am deathly loyal to them.
That's probably because I had so few friends who were loyal to me as a kid growing up.
I particularly gravitate toward friends of my own gender. Not that gal friends are not as cool. I need them, too. They provide a unique companionship that helps me understand a side of life that I rarely understand. But my "guy friends" are people who really understand ME. They are my "bosum buddies".
And, I don't have a problem being authentic around them...nor they around me. I mean I don't have a problem becoming very personal with them. And if that means having the freedom to express emotions in verbal or non-verbal means, then so be it. I don't have a problem with it. Because they are my authentic friends.
I used to be driven to junior high by my Dad. And, each morning (in the face of those other "cool" guys) I would boldly give my Dad a kiss on his cheek before I left. I have no shame about this. And neither did he. I have no shame if the situation calls for me to place my arm around my authentic friend...or to hug him...or to hold him. It's nothing sexual (you perverts out there...get that out of your dirty little mind). It's friendship.
Authentic Friendship.
It is a rare gem. It has great value. And it is only reserved for those who authentically deserve it. It is the most person thing I can give to someone. It is the real me.
Growing up, I was constantly picked on from my classmates. I've had so many "fair weather" friends, I really should be a weatherman. I was the "average" guy in school. Never did anything really outstanding. Never was athletic, never had any interest in competing for anything... I just enjoy life.
Those who think they know me always seem certain I'm an extrovert. But in actuality, I do not feed upon being the center of attention. In fact, I'm quite uncomfortable with it. I can survive if I'm placed in a situation where the spotlight is focused upon me. I don't get convulsions or start gagging for air. I can hold my own pretty much. I've spoken at 8th Grade graduations and I've been on a stage with over 70,000 people in the audience.
I've been with celebrities and I've actually interviewed a United States Senator for a radio program.
Alone.
In my own car.
With no one else around.
As I drove him to the airport.
But, I really prefer a small circle of friends. Not just friends in the general term. Bur friends. Authentic friends. I have more acquaintences than I can possibly imagine. But I only have a very few friends. And, I am deathly loyal to them.
That's probably because I had so few friends who were loyal to me as a kid growing up.
I particularly gravitate toward friends of my own gender. Not that gal friends are not as cool. I need them, too. They provide a unique companionship that helps me understand a side of life that I rarely understand. But my "guy friends" are people who really understand ME. They are my "bosum buddies".
And, I don't have a problem being authentic around them...nor they around me. I mean I don't have a problem becoming very personal with them. And if that means having the freedom to express emotions in verbal or non-verbal means, then so be it. I don't have a problem with it. Because they are my authentic friends.
I used to be driven to junior high by my Dad. And, each morning (in the face of those other "cool" guys) I would boldly give my Dad a kiss on his cheek before I left. I have no shame about this. And neither did he. I have no shame if the situation calls for me to place my arm around my authentic friend...or to hug him...or to hold him. It's nothing sexual (you perverts out there...get that out of your dirty little mind). It's friendship.
Authentic Friendship.
It is a rare gem. It has great value. And it is only reserved for those who authentically deserve it. It is the most person thing I can give to someone. It is the real me.
1.08.2005
No Regrets, But...
This past week a good friend, who is in my local church community, lost his mom. He has had a pretty rough week trying to work through the emotions of planning & going through with the funeral, and dealing with reality.
My Mom died in 2000 before ever seeing age 69. And before ever seeing my two boys. Well, she did get to see a sonogram of my oldest son just days before she went home to be with the Lord. I have always said...and still believe...that I have no regrets at my Mom's passing. I really don't. We've never had a breach in our relationship that I had to mend. We've always known our feelings about each other. I've been blessed to have been able to show her my love & appreciation for her long before she died. Most recently, I helped plan her 40th wedding anniversary for her & my Dad. She said this was going to be, in her mind, like celebrating her 50th because she already knew she'd never live to see her 50th anniversary in reality.
See, my Mom was a 25 year cancer survivor. Before that, she was a survivor of the dreaded disease called tuberculosis. She had over 3/4 of her lung removed and then went through years of follow-up X-Rays to make sure the disease was cured. Unfortunately, by doing this she contracted breast cancer from all of the X-Rays.
When I was in 8th Grade, we got the news. Malignant. It was the only time (before Mom's death) that I ever saw my Dad cry. It was a major catastrophy in our house. Mom had a mastectomy and then radiation treatment. She had muscles & lymph nodes removed from under her arm. Then, two years later...it happened again. A second mastectomy and this time chemotherapy treatments. Then, annual cancer check-ups. That lasted over 25 years.
And then, it happened again. A small cancerous spot on her lung. She was then treated with an experimental new drug called, "tomoxiphin". This bought Mom another 5 or 6 years. Then, more cancer...this time in a tumor at the base of her cerebellum. And another suspicious spot -- on her pelvix. Then, her speech started slurring & her vision began to blur. Then in April of 2000, she called it quits.
I took her yellow daffodils from the American Cancer Society's "Daffodil Days" while she lay in the extended care facility in Columbus, OH (where my parents now lived with my sister). As I left for home on that Sunday afternoon, she gave me a look that told me that this would be the last time I would see her on this earth. She died a week later.
I still have no regrets about my relationship with Mom. We had our glorious battles because we were so much alike. She was able to see me married & preparing to father children. She knew I would do well without her supervision or her "blessing". But...
I do miss being able to tell Mom how my two boys act in ways that their father did when he was their age. I miss telling Mom the funny things that they say & being able to hear her laugh & tell me, "You were the same way when you were their age!" I miss her getting to see how much her grandsons are becoming more like her. I also miss never being able to ask her, "Mom, how did you handle me when I did this?"
We took our Christmas decorations down this week & as I was stacking boxes in the attic, I came across a lot of photos of my Mom & Dad that were taken at my wedding. I wish she could physically could be here to see what has taken place in the nearly 5 years that she's been gone.
No regrets...but I still miss her. She was sure a fine lady.
My Mom died in 2000 before ever seeing age 69. And before ever seeing my two boys. Well, she did get to see a sonogram of my oldest son just days before she went home to be with the Lord. I have always said...and still believe...that I have no regrets at my Mom's passing. I really don't. We've never had a breach in our relationship that I had to mend. We've always known our feelings about each other. I've been blessed to have been able to show her my love & appreciation for her long before she died. Most recently, I helped plan her 40th wedding anniversary for her & my Dad. She said this was going to be, in her mind, like celebrating her 50th because she already knew she'd never live to see her 50th anniversary in reality.
See, my Mom was a 25 year cancer survivor. Before that, she was a survivor of the dreaded disease called tuberculosis. She had over 3/4 of her lung removed and then went through years of follow-up X-Rays to make sure the disease was cured. Unfortunately, by doing this she contracted breast cancer from all of the X-Rays.
When I was in 8th Grade, we got the news. Malignant. It was the only time (before Mom's death) that I ever saw my Dad cry. It was a major catastrophy in our house. Mom had a mastectomy and then radiation treatment. She had muscles & lymph nodes removed from under her arm. Then, two years later...it happened again. A second mastectomy and this time chemotherapy treatments. Then, annual cancer check-ups. That lasted over 25 years.
And then, it happened again. A small cancerous spot on her lung. She was then treated with an experimental new drug called, "tomoxiphin". This bought Mom another 5 or 6 years. Then, more cancer...this time in a tumor at the base of her cerebellum. And another suspicious spot -- on her pelvix. Then, her speech started slurring & her vision began to blur. Then in April of 2000, she called it quits.
I took her yellow daffodils from the American Cancer Society's "Daffodil Days" while she lay in the extended care facility in Columbus, OH (where my parents now lived with my sister). As I left for home on that Sunday afternoon, she gave me a look that told me that this would be the last time I would see her on this earth. She died a week later.
I still have no regrets about my relationship with Mom. We had our glorious battles because we were so much alike. She was able to see me married & preparing to father children. She knew I would do well without her supervision or her "blessing". But...
I do miss being able to tell Mom how my two boys act in ways that their father did when he was their age. I miss telling Mom the funny things that they say & being able to hear her laugh & tell me, "You were the same way when you were their age!" I miss her getting to see how much her grandsons are becoming more like her. I also miss never being able to ask her, "Mom, how did you handle me when I did this?"
We took our Christmas decorations down this week & as I was stacking boxes in the attic, I came across a lot of photos of my Mom & Dad that were taken at my wedding. I wish she could physically could be here to see what has taken place in the nearly 5 years that she's been gone.
No regrets...but I still miss her. She was sure a fine lady.
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