Has it been this long since my last post? Geezh, this summer is already at warp speed...and it's not even summer yet! Case in point: We've been meetinig ourselves coming at our house with so many activities & events that necessitate our participation. On one particular busy Saturday afternoon, the family hit the mall in town to get some supplies. My wife decided to split up & cover more ground so she took my oldest boy & assigned me my youngest - and most "ornery" son.
I desparately needed new shoes, since the ones I was wearing had "blown out" months ago...actually last summer...and now were rapidly transforming into sandals. So, I had remembered seeing some shoes I liked at Hot Topic. Yes, I said, "Hot Topic". My neighbor actually exclaimed when I told him this, "Aren't you a little old to be shopping in Hot Topic?" Well, no, actually. I do like some of the clothes there, but especially the shoes, since most of what I'd seen at the discount stores were some that resembled what the lunar astronauts wore on their first trip to the moon.
The store is dark, narrow, crowded, and full of displays that make a "straight line" impossible. So, my son began zig-zagging through the people, racks, & other assorted obstacles to the back of the store where the clothes were in search of the shoe rack. He was already voicing his displeasure in being at the store so I had to hold onto his hand & weave him through the store. I found the shoes near the back, close to the storeroom.
As my son started whining about wanting to go, one of the store's employees came up to help me. As I was describing the shoe I had hoped to find, my son began playing with the South Park toys on the rack & looking with curiosity at the door leading into the storeroom, which had a large mirror on the front.
The clerk disappeared into the storeroom to get some sample shoes for me & I had to restrain my son from following her. She returned with some shoes to sample & then took me around to the opposide side of the display to show me other styles of shoes to examine. My son, meanwhile, had started making faces in the mirror on the storeroom's door. The whole process with me & the store clerk took 5 minutes. When I was ready to try on the shoes, I circled back around the display to take my son with me. And, he had moved on. So, my next move was to start wandering the store, looking in every nook & cranny for him...thinking he was looking for more things to play with.
By the time I had made it to the front of the store, I had not seen him. Outside the store, in the mall, the local law enforcement agencies & EMS crews had their vehicles & officers set up to promote safety. They were registering children with photos & giving tours of ambulances & police cars. Thinking he had wandered into a police car or joined some of the others kids in playing out front, I scanned the crowd. No sight of him.
I began to process where he could've taken off to - he's at the coin-operated rides half-way down the mall from where we were - I was almost 100% certain. But I wanted to make sure he was not still in the store before I took off. As I started to turn for the storeroom, where I figured he may have gone, a girl from our church came up to talk. While making small talk, I continued scanning the store & the mall...not wanting to freak out anyone yet.
I guess this is where I differ from others. I was quite anxious about the whole thing. But I'm also optimistic in that I look for the positive side before diving head-first into the worst-case scenario. This also drives my inner "gut" feeling that I live in a relatively safe part of the state. I feel very secure where I live. I have seen the neighborliness, kindness, and support from folks living in Central PA in the last 2 1/2 years I've lived here. Case in point: We were once a victim of a flat tire caused by a rock on the road. In the time it took to call & report us to AAA, 3 cars offered to stop & help - the first being one with two teenagers. The 4th to stop actually got out of the car & began getting his tools out to change our tire. I had to call AAA to cancel the call because this guy had already started to work. So, we saved having to use our travel club credit. So, needless to say, I have a good impression of where I live.
During this exchange my wife met me with my oldest son & she had only one question to ask: Where my youngest son was. All I could say was, "I don't know. I'm looking for him." Now we have launched the torpedo & on our way to Defcon 4.
I quickly said I was going back to see if he had wondered into the store's storeroom & before I had made it half-way back through the store, my wife met me prepared for battle & screaming, "WHERE IS HE!!!!!!!!!!" Now, I was going to tell her I was going to check the amusement rides next but she had already run from the store like a madwoman screaming like a banshee.
In a matter of 1 minute, she had attracted the response of a University Policeman, officers from 2 neighboring townships, a Borough policeman, and a State Trooper. Descriptions were given, a crowd was gathering, my oldest son, who's only 5, started freaking out, and total pandemoneum was well underway. A search party was mobilized with local townspeople volunteering to go with the officers & emergency services personnel. I was asked if my 4 year old knew the mall. I told the officers that he did & probably knew right where he wanted to go....to the mechanical amusement rides.
The search party took off, on foot, on a bicycle, and on their radios. All I could do was to stand there & console my wife who was 30 seconds away from postal. I still had my share of anxiety...moreso because of the ruckus that was playing out around me than over the fact that my 4 year old had just split on his own destination at a crowded mall on a Saturday afternoon.
Of course, it didn't help that my wife had just watched a Dateline NBC program about child predators.
Within 10 minutes, 3 uniformed officers was walking my son back to us. The word spread quickly to the runners that preceeded the arrival of my son... "We found him!" And my wife flipped out again as she saw him grinning like a Cheshire cat being led by his police escorts. I asked one of the officers, "Was he at the play area?" "Yep, he sure was," was the reply. "You hit it right on target."
Now, had he not been at the amusement ride area, my anxiety would have begun to give way to panic. But I guess I don't "light up" as fast as some do. I try to process information as I get it rather than jump to conclusions. Nevertheless, my faith in the local community, the local emergency services personnel, and the people of the county..only reinforcing my optimistic view of the people who live in my neighborhood.
Oh, and I also make it a habit never to yell, "FIRE" in a crowded theater, either.
Once we had my son back in our custody, we marched both kids over to the table to register them with the county emergency services & have their photos taken. Then, both got to meet the State Police & have their picture taken in a real, life police cruiser. And they, too, got a good lesson on the importance of having the policeman as your friend.
5.24.2006
4.16.2006
Out of The Loop
I grew up in a small Arkansas town & attended a small high school. So small everyone was just a little too intimate. This means that what ever drama that began in 1st Grade, grew & magnified by 12th Grade. I got accustomed to being argued over at recess or at P.E. on who's team I would play. It wasn't because I was the highest scorer. I also grew used to not being invited to "those" parties or to certain events that all the other more socially acceptable kids would attend. By the time I entered college, I could smell a fair-weathered friend like a bloodhound.
Granted, it's been over 35 years since all this, but nevertheless I am still affected by such social stereotypecasting. And to be honest, it still requires a bit more processing for me to work through instances like this in adult life -- even if they are unintentional.
Like today. It's Easter Sunday. We are having several friends over who do not have family in the area & would be having an Easter dinner alone. So, we asked them to bring a side dish & we'd provide the meat & desert. I helped get things ready while my wife got the kids & herself all ready to head off to Easter church services (where she works as choir/music director). I had committments to a mens' Bible Study group with our church (the one my family are actual members of).
See, even though it was Easter & typically it may be expected that a lot of folks would not attend a Bible study group because of the holiday... I do just the opposite. If I have made a committment to something, come hell or high water, you can expect me to be there 99 44/100% of the time. I think some of this comes from my personality & some from my experiences of being "out of the loop" in my childhood school experiences.
Now, this Bible study group initially was a special group of men who met regularly to pray for our pastor (a "prayer shield" so to speak). It was "by invitation only". I understand the need for this.... however, when I moved my family to the area in 2003, I had keenly researched where we wanted to attend church. And this church was the one I picked....deliberately. So, I "hit the ground running"...ready to volunteer for whatever. Most pastors or churches would drop dead if someone like me decided to allign with their fellowship & would be looking for me like a heat-seeking missle every time they needed some help.
Not here. For 2 years, I just treaded water. Never really getting asked to serve much... I watched as others were asked...and I even repeated my desire to help out in any way. But it seemed that most of my pleas went unheard. Now, recently... the "prayer shield" sort morphed into a mens' prayer group & it was opened up for any men in the church. However, this small detail was really never made too public within the fellowship. I heard about it on the side. As a "by the way" comment.
Even though I did feel like I was still out of the loop, I readily committed myself to supporting these Bible Study groups. Once I began attending, I heard comments made about the "email that was sent out". I never received any emails about the group... I just hear about it "on the side". Again, more processing to keep my feelings of being left out of the loop... and more processing to keep myself from feeling like I had just joined a group of "fair weathered friends".
Now that was a quick background on where I am today. It's Easter Sunday and I've done my part at helping get the kids ready to go with mommy to her church where she directs the choir. I've gotten ready to drive the 20 minutes across the county to the place to meet for the Mens' Bible Study group. The church's email that was sent out a few days ago even had the reminder about the event.... When I arrived at the location... not a soul was in sight. No cars in the parking lot. Nothing.
I called the home of the group leader & got his wife who gave me what I have called as the "typical response" I've grown used to hearing since becoming involved in this church 2 1/2 years ago: "Well an email went out......" Okay... so the point is.....??
I'm out of the loop.
My spiritual gift is exhortation. And it's times like this my gift gets attacked by the devil who loves to fire up my natual talent of sarcasm & synicism. I have more email addresses than Carter has liver pills. No one bothered to include one of them in this email "that went out..." I have two cell phone numbers... none were used to call me. Oh, I was also told when I called to find out where everyone was that "yeah, we got to thinking that not everyone got the email about the meeting this week".
And just what did we do about it?
Nothing, apparently. And I even gave my email address to the group leader just weeks ago so I could be including in all the future mailings.
Sorry, my sarcasm is showing.
I guess it's times like this that really challenge my tenacity to be committed to things like this. Down deep, I feel that if I'm not that important -- that even after almost three years of committment to my church -- that I could've been told that a mens' study group (a group that used to be "by invitation only") was going to be cancelled because of Easter Sunday. I was still committed to attending even though it was going to be held on a holiday.
I guess it's just the price I pay for being so damn loyal.
Granted, it's been over 35 years since all this, but nevertheless I am still affected by such social stereotypecasting. And to be honest, it still requires a bit more processing for me to work through instances like this in adult life -- even if they are unintentional.
Like today. It's Easter Sunday. We are having several friends over who do not have family in the area & would be having an Easter dinner alone. So, we asked them to bring a side dish & we'd provide the meat & desert. I helped get things ready while my wife got the kids & herself all ready to head off to Easter church services (where she works as choir/music director). I had committments to a mens' Bible Study group with our church (the one my family are actual members of).
See, even though it was Easter & typically it may be expected that a lot of folks would not attend a Bible study group because of the holiday... I do just the opposite. If I have made a committment to something, come hell or high water, you can expect me to be there 99 44/100% of the time. I think some of this comes from my personality & some from my experiences of being "out of the loop" in my childhood school experiences.
Now, this Bible study group initially was a special group of men who met regularly to pray for our pastor (a "prayer shield" so to speak). It was "by invitation only". I understand the need for this.... however, when I moved my family to the area in 2003, I had keenly researched where we wanted to attend church. And this church was the one I picked....deliberately. So, I "hit the ground running"...ready to volunteer for whatever. Most pastors or churches would drop dead if someone like me decided to allign with their fellowship & would be looking for me like a heat-seeking missle every time they needed some help.
Not here. For 2 years, I just treaded water. Never really getting asked to serve much... I watched as others were asked...and I even repeated my desire to help out in any way. But it seemed that most of my pleas went unheard. Now, recently... the "prayer shield" sort morphed into a mens' prayer group & it was opened up for any men in the church. However, this small detail was really never made too public within the fellowship. I heard about it on the side. As a "by the way" comment.
Even though I did feel like I was still out of the loop, I readily committed myself to supporting these Bible Study groups. Once I began attending, I heard comments made about the "email that was sent out". I never received any emails about the group... I just hear about it "on the side". Again, more processing to keep my feelings of being left out of the loop... and more processing to keep myself from feeling like I had just joined a group of "fair weathered friends".
Now that was a quick background on where I am today. It's Easter Sunday and I've done my part at helping get the kids ready to go with mommy to her church where she directs the choir. I've gotten ready to drive the 20 minutes across the county to the place to meet for the Mens' Bible Study group. The church's email that was sent out a few days ago even had the reminder about the event.... When I arrived at the location... not a soul was in sight. No cars in the parking lot. Nothing.
I called the home of the group leader & got his wife who gave me what I have called as the "typical response" I've grown used to hearing since becoming involved in this church 2 1/2 years ago: "Well an email went out......" Okay... so the point is.....??
I'm out of the loop.
My spiritual gift is exhortation. And it's times like this my gift gets attacked by the devil who loves to fire up my natual talent of sarcasm & synicism. I have more email addresses than Carter has liver pills. No one bothered to include one of them in this email "that went out..." I have two cell phone numbers... none were used to call me. Oh, I was also told when I called to find out where everyone was that "yeah, we got to thinking that not everyone got the email about the meeting this week".
And just what did we do about it?
Nothing, apparently. And I even gave my email address to the group leader just weeks ago so I could be including in all the future mailings.
Sorry, my sarcasm is showing.
I guess it's times like this that really challenge my tenacity to be committed to things like this. Down deep, I feel that if I'm not that important -- that even after almost three years of committment to my church -- that I could've been told that a mens' study group (a group that used to be "by invitation only") was going to be cancelled because of Easter Sunday. I was still committed to attending even though it was going to be held on a holiday.
I guess it's just the price I pay for being so damn loyal.
4.06.2006
Snowblinded
It's spring. It's supposed to be getting less & less like winter. In Pennsylvania, however, that is all relative. I was driving to work - a 31 mile haul, one way, each day, five days a week - at the ungodly hour of 4:41am as the snow shower rapidly escalated into a fierce snow squall. I had several mountains to climb & the lines in the road were getting dimmer by the minute.
Finally, they disappeared alltogether & left me with just the reflector sticks along either side of the road to use as my guide to stay out of the ditches. The last mountain range was the worst. And it was here that the snow was the worst. The flakes swirled all around in front of my headlights...neither going in a straight line or falling gently down. All of this visual stimulatoin was causing me to be hypnotized as I putted along at about 20-30 mph.
The 2-lane Federal highway divides at one point at the base of the mountain range. I am concentrating on merely keeping the car as close to the right side of the road without dropping over the bank. My mind is reasoning, "Should I just pull over & wait this out?" I just could not bring myself to that yet. It's not desparate enough. I have driven all over northwest PA living there for almost 2 decades...this little snow squall shouldn't deter my quest to arrive at my job faithfully.
So I pushed myself in spite of my instincts.
My headlights shined upon the sign that said, "Keep Right"...so I kept my car to the right, thinking this would get me to the divided highway. I could only see as far as my headlights would shine. The road was all white...as was the shoulder, the grass, and all of the other surroundings. Down to only 15 mph & in 2nd gear, I crawled along, staying to the right until I spied the two "DO NOT ENTER" signs that I recognized as facing the opposite direction of the opposing lanes of the divided highway!
Thankfully, at this time of the morning, there were no tractor-trailers or cars (which so frequently travel this highway) as I did a 12-point turn around in the middle of the opposing lanes & tried to figure out where I was & how I was going to get over to the side of the divided highway (without ending up in the grass median, stuck for hours) that would take me to work without the head-on collision. After 10 minutes of feeling like a rat in a maze, I saw my way & was able to continue on spinning & sliding along at 15 mph.
When I was able to make it to the mountain's summit, the snow squall was beginning to lose some of its punch. I was able to make out the highway itself & began my coasting down the mountainside in 2nd gear...tooling along at 20 mph. A little more than 1/4 of the way down, the lines on the road began to appear again & by the time I had reached the bottom of the mountain range, I was back up to speed at 60 mph.
Nevertheless, my little time/space continuim had left me with about 35 minutes less time to get to work. But at least I did get to work.
Finally, they disappeared alltogether & left me with just the reflector sticks along either side of the road to use as my guide to stay out of the ditches. The last mountain range was the worst. And it was here that the snow was the worst. The flakes swirled all around in front of my headlights...neither going in a straight line or falling gently down. All of this visual stimulatoin was causing me to be hypnotized as I putted along at about 20-30 mph.
The 2-lane Federal highway divides at one point at the base of the mountain range. I am concentrating on merely keeping the car as close to the right side of the road without dropping over the bank. My mind is reasoning, "Should I just pull over & wait this out?" I just could not bring myself to that yet. It's not desparate enough. I have driven all over northwest PA living there for almost 2 decades...this little snow squall shouldn't deter my quest to arrive at my job faithfully.
So I pushed myself in spite of my instincts.
My headlights shined upon the sign that said, "Keep Right"...so I kept my car to the right, thinking this would get me to the divided highway. I could only see as far as my headlights would shine. The road was all white...as was the shoulder, the grass, and all of the other surroundings. Down to only 15 mph & in 2nd gear, I crawled along, staying to the right until I spied the two "DO NOT ENTER" signs that I recognized as facing the opposite direction of the opposing lanes of the divided highway!
Thankfully, at this time of the morning, there were no tractor-trailers or cars (which so frequently travel this highway) as I did a 12-point turn around in the middle of the opposing lanes & tried to figure out where I was & how I was going to get over to the side of the divided highway (without ending up in the grass median, stuck for hours) that would take me to work without the head-on collision. After 10 minutes of feeling like a rat in a maze, I saw my way & was able to continue on spinning & sliding along at 15 mph.
When I was able to make it to the mountain's summit, the snow squall was beginning to lose some of its punch. I was able to make out the highway itself & began my coasting down the mountainside in 2nd gear...tooling along at 20 mph. A little more than 1/4 of the way down, the lines on the road began to appear again & by the time I had reached the bottom of the mountain range, I was back up to speed at 60 mph.
Nevertheless, my little time/space continuim had left me with about 35 minutes less time to get to work. But at least I did get to work.
3.21.2006
My world is shrinking...
I read the online newspapers & websites from all the local media outlets in my hometown area surronding Booneville, AR. I find myself clicking the "Obituary" link more than not. And each time I see familiar names from my past. A former teacher, a neighbor who used to live across the street from me, a classmate's father, former clients of my now deceased father.... Each day could bring another name I recognize.
I see now how as I get older my world is getting smaller. Life goes on... And I watch it pass. I live 1250 miles away from my hometown now. I see how my home state of Arkansas is slowly becoming more of a foreign land. The culture is changing, the landscape is changing & each year I visit it seems like a new element is being added or taken away.
Nevertheless, it is comforting to visit these virtual outposts of my past. I still feel connected & have the desire to know what's going on...even though I have no idea who the people are that are the subject of the news articles I read. It gives me a sense of being to know I can have a head knowledge of the events that I no longer experience first hand.
And then I hear news today that my Dad's youngest living brother, my Uncle John, has had a stroke. He is well into his 70s now, and has had numerous heart operations. The world of my family is getting smaller, too. I think of my grandmother, "Grandma Ruby", who will turn 99 in April. She has buried 2 of her own children - my Dad being one of them - and she just spends her time lying in bed in a "rest home" in southern Arkansas watching life pass her by. It is when I visit her every year at Thanksgiving that I feel like I can come home.
My home, that I spent a quarter-century living in, is now occupied by strangers. It still looks familiar, but the trimmings have dramatically changed. Soon, another milestone will pass: By the year 2010, I will have lived in Pennsylvania as long as I have lived in my childhood state of Arkansas. After that, I will be more of a Pennsylvanian than an Arkansan.
I see now, why many return to their home upon retirement. I'm starting to feel that way even now, & I still have years to go before I hang up my working shoes.
But while my world is shrinking behind me, a new world is growing in front of me. I have two precious boys who are, in their own individual way, the spitting image of "dear ol' Dad". Tomorrow, I relive a part of my past because my youngest boy will be going to the eye doctor at the tender age of 4 to be fitted for corrective lenses that he will , no doubt, be dependant up0n for the remainder of his life...just as I depend upon them right now to write this. I, too, was 4 years old when my next door neighbor (who was also to be my eye doctor) noticed I could not see the golf balls he was putting in his front lawn when he asked me to retrieve them for him while he practiced his swing.
This new world is growing each day as I see traits of me in my children...and as I introduce them to the world behind me by taking them to see their family each Thanksgiving back in Arkansas. There, I watch as they get to know & love their cousins & other family members just as I did at their age when I was brought to these family gatherings that started in 1960.
My new world grows as I take walks in the woods with my kids & hear my oldest (who is following in he father's steps by trying to be at least 15 yards ahead of everyone else on the hike) shout out toward me, "Dad... you know what?" "I love you!" and hear those words echo through the Pennsylvania mountains.
What an intricate & complicated - yet completely marvelous life we live in.
I see now how as I get older my world is getting smaller. Life goes on... And I watch it pass. I live 1250 miles away from my hometown now. I see how my home state of Arkansas is slowly becoming more of a foreign land. The culture is changing, the landscape is changing & each year I visit it seems like a new element is being added or taken away.
Nevertheless, it is comforting to visit these virtual outposts of my past. I still feel connected & have the desire to know what's going on...even though I have no idea who the people are that are the subject of the news articles I read. It gives me a sense of being to know I can have a head knowledge of the events that I no longer experience first hand.
And then I hear news today that my Dad's youngest living brother, my Uncle John, has had a stroke. He is well into his 70s now, and has had numerous heart operations. The world of my family is getting smaller, too. I think of my grandmother, "Grandma Ruby", who will turn 99 in April. She has buried 2 of her own children - my Dad being one of them - and she just spends her time lying in bed in a "rest home" in southern Arkansas watching life pass her by. It is when I visit her every year at Thanksgiving that I feel like I can come home.
My home, that I spent a quarter-century living in, is now occupied by strangers. It still looks familiar, but the trimmings have dramatically changed. Soon, another milestone will pass: By the year 2010, I will have lived in Pennsylvania as long as I have lived in my childhood state of Arkansas. After that, I will be more of a Pennsylvanian than an Arkansan.
I see now, why many return to their home upon retirement. I'm starting to feel that way even now, & I still have years to go before I hang up my working shoes.
But while my world is shrinking behind me, a new world is growing in front of me. I have two precious boys who are, in their own individual way, the spitting image of "dear ol' Dad". Tomorrow, I relive a part of my past because my youngest boy will be going to the eye doctor at the tender age of 4 to be fitted for corrective lenses that he will , no doubt, be dependant up0n for the remainder of his life...just as I depend upon them right now to write this. I, too, was 4 years old when my next door neighbor (who was also to be my eye doctor) noticed I could not see the golf balls he was putting in his front lawn when he asked me to retrieve them for him while he practiced his swing.
This new world is growing each day as I see traits of me in my children...and as I introduce them to the world behind me by taking them to see their family each Thanksgiving back in Arkansas. There, I watch as they get to know & love their cousins & other family members just as I did at their age when I was brought to these family gatherings that started in 1960.
My new world grows as I take walks in the woods with my kids & hear my oldest (who is following in he father's steps by trying to be at least 15 yards ahead of everyone else on the hike) shout out toward me, "Dad... you know what?" "I love you!" and hear those words echo through the Pennsylvania mountains.
What an intricate & complicated - yet completely marvelous life we live in.
3.01.2006
Extrovert - Schmexstrovert....
Kind of a weird Sunday night. Weird in a good kind of way, though. At church, we've just begun looking into the different spiritual disciplines in following the teachings of Christ. We were looking into living a contemplative life & exploring what this means. That's about all I remember about it.
For me, I guess when I look at how I worship, a lot depends on my environment. The music does help, but I don't get that caught up in the emotionalism associated a lot of times with music & worship. Now that doesn't mean I don't get emotional...it just means that I don't need music to initiate it. No, what really helps me connect in worship is looking around & seeing others who are participating in worship with me. The whole gathering together of the "saints" in celebration of Christ & His Provisions for us really undergirds my worship experience.
So many people in my church see me as an extrovert. Yeah, I guess I do seem to pitch myself in the forefront many times, but it's not because I need attention to emotionally survive. At the same time, I am not a recluse & shun a lot of public life to pursue a monatary existence. I will admit that I am a "people person"...that I get a huge charge from hooking up with people. But not a crowd of people. I'm not intimidated by crowds and I can easily walk onto a stage in front of 80,000 people - just like I did when I was introduced with the staff of a brand new Christian radio station that came to the area.
What happened Sunday though spoke louder to me than my pastor who was leading the dialogue on spiritual disciplines. I was able to connect with two friends with who I have the greatest amount of respect. One was someone I had not seen in weeks who was able to make it to a gathering at church. The other connection happened in a totally spontaneous fashion.
I saw him stepping from the mens' room looking (as we used to say down south) rather "peekid"...like he was just recovering from a weekend with the flu. Obviously, I asked if he was feeling alright. He answered with that he was indeed not feeling up to speed. When I joked that if he felt the need to hurl he should turn away from me, he laughed slightly and said he wasn't feeling sick. So, I instinctively asked if it was something I could pray for him about.
That's when his eyes filled with tears & his voice wavered & he explained how he was just feeling overwhelmed with studies at the university & with his responsibility as a leader in the local Christian group. Before I knew it, I was pulling his arm, coaxing him to follow me (and the other friend I was talking to at the time) into the church's prayer room. There my friend told of his feelings of helplessness as he feels the need to fulfill his responsibilities as a "spiritual leader" for the Bible Study group, but also knows he truly must devote time to his studies while at school.
My heart went out to him because I could easily identify with his delimma. See, this friend is someone I would not have second thoughts about laying my life down for his sake. This friend is someone I would confide in with some of the most hidden secrets in my life. And it was a friend that I was always looking for some way to express my appreciation for his loyalty & his friendship. Now it looked like that time had come.
I listened to him emotionally share his burden while trying to sort out all the experiences I had gone through that I could tell him from similar situations. "Male bonding" would be what my wife would jokingly call it...but it was more than just "bonding". I felt it was a morphing of two & of three individuals together. The physical expression of my favorite verse in Ecclesiastes:
Here we were: The cord of three strands, supporting each other, one of which was feeling a bit more weak & needed the support of the other two. I could see a glimmer of hope appear in the eyes of my friend, which only fueled my spiritual gift of exhortation. It was such a rush to have such a personal impact upon another - it is such a huge responsibility, too.
As we ended with a prayer for my friend, I chose to "pray us home", so to speak, but it was a struggle to do so because I was so overcome with emotion. Oh, crap. That's not supposed to happen. But it did, and as it has always happened in my prior experiences, my tears acted as a bond that drew my friendship even tighter.
I would take experiences like this over being in a crowd of people anytime. Sorry if this is a letdown to you, but I must reiterate: I am not an extrovert.
Well, in the literal sense anyway.
For me, I guess when I look at how I worship, a lot depends on my environment. The music does help, but I don't get that caught up in the emotionalism associated a lot of times with music & worship. Now that doesn't mean I don't get emotional...it just means that I don't need music to initiate it. No, what really helps me connect in worship is looking around & seeing others who are participating in worship with me. The whole gathering together of the "saints" in celebration of Christ & His Provisions for us really undergirds my worship experience.
So many people in my church see me as an extrovert. Yeah, I guess I do seem to pitch myself in the forefront many times, but it's not because I need attention to emotionally survive. At the same time, I am not a recluse & shun a lot of public life to pursue a monatary existence. I will admit that I am a "people person"...that I get a huge charge from hooking up with people. But not a crowd of people. I'm not intimidated by crowds and I can easily walk onto a stage in front of 80,000 people - just like I did when I was introduced with the staff of a brand new Christian radio station that came to the area.
What happened Sunday though spoke louder to me than my pastor who was leading the dialogue on spiritual disciplines. I was able to connect with two friends with who I have the greatest amount of respect. One was someone I had not seen in weeks who was able to make it to a gathering at church. The other connection happened in a totally spontaneous fashion.
I saw him stepping from the mens' room looking (as we used to say down south) rather "peekid"...like he was just recovering from a weekend with the flu. Obviously, I asked if he was feeling alright. He answered with that he was indeed not feeling up to speed. When I joked that if he felt the need to hurl he should turn away from me, he laughed slightly and said he wasn't feeling sick. So, I instinctively asked if it was something I could pray for him about.
That's when his eyes filled with tears & his voice wavered & he explained how he was just feeling overwhelmed with studies at the university & with his responsibility as a leader in the local Christian group. Before I knew it, I was pulling his arm, coaxing him to follow me (and the other friend I was talking to at the time) into the church's prayer room. There my friend told of his feelings of helplessness as he feels the need to fulfill his responsibilities as a "spiritual leader" for the Bible Study group, but also knows he truly must devote time to his studies while at school.
My heart went out to him because I could easily identify with his delimma. See, this friend is someone I would not have second thoughts about laying my life down for his sake. This friend is someone I would confide in with some of the most hidden secrets in my life. And it was a friend that I was always looking for some way to express my appreciation for his loyalty & his friendship. Now it looked like that time had come.
I listened to him emotionally share his burden while trying to sort out all the experiences I had gone through that I could tell him from similar situations. "Male bonding" would be what my wife would jokingly call it...but it was more than just "bonding". I felt it was a morphing of two & of three individuals together. The physical expression of my favorite verse in Ecclesiastes:
9 Two are better than one because they have a
good reward for their efforts. 10 For if either falls, his companion can
lift him up; but pity the one who falls without another to lift him up.
11 Also, if two lie down together, they can keep warm; but how can one
person alone keep warm? 12 And if somebody overpowers one person, two can
resist him. A cord of three strands is not easily broken
Here we were: The cord of three strands, supporting each other, one of which was feeling a bit more weak & needed the support of the other two. I could see a glimmer of hope appear in the eyes of my friend, which only fueled my spiritual gift of exhortation. It was such a rush to have such a personal impact upon another - it is such a huge responsibility, too.
As we ended with a prayer for my friend, I chose to "pray us home", so to speak, but it was a struggle to do so because I was so overcome with emotion. Oh, crap. That's not supposed to happen. But it did, and as it has always happened in my prior experiences, my tears acted as a bond that drew my friendship even tighter.
I would take experiences like this over being in a crowd of people anytime. Sorry if this is a letdown to you, but I must reiterate: I am not an extrovert.
Well, in the literal sense anyway.
2.08.2006
Report Cards
I used to just hate getting report cards. They were nothing more than a prison sentence to me. I would be anxious all day long waiting to get those little white cards with letters written in columns for each quarter. And I could just predict what some of those letters would be...especially in classes like math or "deportment" (as it used to be called) or in other words, "conduct". Yes, I've had my share of trips to the principal's office or even in getting "demerits" for misbehavior.
This week, my oldest son brought home his report for the "second marking period" from kindergarten. I must admit, I still get a twinge when I look at the envelope. This report card was not the "card" I used to get with letter grades for each of the 6 or 7 classes that were taken. No, this was a "report packet" -- a manilla envelope clasped shut that contained several pages of 8 1/2 x 11 inch paper that went to great detail on my son's progress. And the letter grades I grew up with such as "A", "B", "C", "D" and the letter that did grace my report card on more than one occasion, "F", were not on this one. Instead it was "M" or "S" (meets expectations or some work needed).
The last page of this report was a summary of the teacher's assesment on my son's overall progress. At his age now, he is not too aware of what the ramifications of getting a report card mean, and I don't want to start out his academic experience by making him dread reporting periods. So, I let him climb up in my lap & I asked him if he would like to hear what his teacher thought of how well he did in school. As I read the teacher's summary of his progress, it was actually very difficult to keep my composure. Reading comments that told of how much he loved learning new things & how he was a "natural leader" really got to me. The teacher also described how my son thrived on pleasing others...literally soaking up any attention he could get when he knew he could initiate a positive reaction from his classmates or his teacher. The part reporting on how much he loved to read was a real grabber, too.
However, there was one particular characteristic that was specifically singled out in not just the current "marking period" but in the previous one, too. It was my son's particular weakness for "acting silly" during learning or work times. He finds it quite challenging to get control of his bubbling personality long enough to allow the teacher to present the lesson and to allow his classmates to pay attention. In fact, his teacher added that his sillyness was a "distraction" to the class.
Why did my kid have to pick up that characteristic from his father?
Next thing you know, a guidance counselor will be telling my son that he would be best suited for a career in radio.
This week, my oldest son brought home his report for the "second marking period" from kindergarten. I must admit, I still get a twinge when I look at the envelope. This report card was not the "card" I used to get with letter grades for each of the 6 or 7 classes that were taken. No, this was a "report packet" -- a manilla envelope clasped shut that contained several pages of 8 1/2 x 11 inch paper that went to great detail on my son's progress. And the letter grades I grew up with such as "A", "B", "C", "D" and the letter that did grace my report card on more than one occasion, "F", were not on this one. Instead it was "M" or "S" (meets expectations or some work needed).
The last page of this report was a summary of the teacher's assesment on my son's overall progress. At his age now, he is not too aware of what the ramifications of getting a report card mean, and I don't want to start out his academic experience by making him dread reporting periods. So, I let him climb up in my lap & I asked him if he would like to hear what his teacher thought of how well he did in school. As I read the teacher's summary of his progress, it was actually very difficult to keep my composure. Reading comments that told of how much he loved learning new things & how he was a "natural leader" really got to me. The teacher also described how my son thrived on pleasing others...literally soaking up any attention he could get when he knew he could initiate a positive reaction from his classmates or his teacher. The part reporting on how much he loved to read was a real grabber, too.
However, there was one particular characteristic that was specifically singled out in not just the current "marking period" but in the previous one, too. It was my son's particular weakness for "acting silly" during learning or work times. He finds it quite challenging to get control of his bubbling personality long enough to allow the teacher to present the lesson and to allow his classmates to pay attention. In fact, his teacher added that his sillyness was a "distraction" to the class.
Why did my kid have to pick up that characteristic from his father?
Next thing you know, a guidance counselor will be telling my son that he would be best suited for a career in radio.
1.26.2006
Why Youth Need Authentic Christianity
I read a few blogs from youth in our area & just pray overall for what we can do as Believers to offer some kind of Eternal Hope. Here is one from the 17 year old I've been writing to online these past several weeks. We've never met, but know several mutual friends. He attends State High... (emphasis mine)
so yeah its been i dont know hong that i have been like this maybe 4 months or so i forget.. but it doesnt seem to be getitng any better. I always tend to get into these fogs of hopelessness and feeling lost and that no one wants me.. well it sorta always feels that way to me. I havent been back to school in 2 months and i dont know if i iwll go back i am trying to still figure out different options. I am getting help and all but its just doesnt seem to help me over all.. its helping some little things. I dont understand why it seems liek all the bad things have to happen to the good people. And really it seems liek i didnt do anything to deserve being treated this way. It seems like i did nothing. but other people tend to think differently.. maybe those people should undertand who i am and what i am trying to do.. i know sometimes i dont act nice to others and it might seem like i odnt care but in a way i do i really care aobut everyone in a way or another even the people that hate me and dont like me. i cant hate them back thats not who i am and thats not the way i am. Its not good to hate people it just gives you a reason for nothing.. which is pointless i odnt get it.. and i gues people dont seem to get themselvs most of the time. I always act nice and kind to everyone ( most of the time anyways) and look what i get back.. i get all this shit.. and i dont liek it.. people need to deal with their own problems.. anbd not blame me i am already going through so much shit.. and if you say you understand maybe.. you understand only a little biut.. not all of it.. unless if i have talked to you personally and told you everything.. those would be the people who i trsut.. the people that i know care a little bit.if not alot. but sometimes i wish people would care.. like maybe call to see where i was or call to see hopw i was or.. just call to hang out and do soemthing.. but nope.. i havent gotten any calls and i am sure i wont qat all in the future. yeah thats why it seems liek no one tends to care because no one seems to do anything to cheer me up.. o well i gues i am sorta alone but o well thats who i am.. if people want to be my friend they can... if they hate me thats their problem and they have to deal iwth it.. i wish people would ten to deal with their own problems instead of blame them on me. no wonder no one likes me because i tend to get a false image from people. but if people tend to know the real me.. the kid who is nice and caring.. maybe more people will understand what i am trying to do.but for now no one seem to care and no one seem to want to iunderstand and really who wants to understand me
If this doesn't epitomize what goes on inside the heads of most American teens between 13 & 19, I can't think of anything else use for an example. I do know that with teens, there is always "the rest of the story" and I always go into these situations fully aware that there is more than meets the eye. I don't think the church needs to have "The Answer" as much as I think the church needs to have the spiritual latitude to provide growing room for youth so they have the freedom to not just explore Jesus, but their own lives as well.
so yeah its been i dont know hong that i have been like this maybe 4 months or so i forget.. but it doesnt seem to be getitng any better. I always tend to get into these fogs of hopelessness and feeling lost and that no one wants me.. well it sorta always feels that way to me. I havent been back to school in 2 months and i dont know if i iwll go back i am trying to still figure out different options. I am getting help and all but its just doesnt seem to help me over all.. its helping some little things. I dont understand why it seems liek all the bad things have to happen to the good people. And really it seems liek i didnt do anything to deserve being treated this way. It seems like i did nothing. but other people tend to think differently.. maybe those people should undertand who i am and what i am trying to do.. i know sometimes i dont act nice to others and it might seem like i odnt care but in a way i do i really care aobut everyone in a way or another even the people that hate me and dont like me. i cant hate them back thats not who i am and thats not the way i am. Its not good to hate people it just gives you a reason for nothing.. which is pointless i odnt get it.. and i gues people dont seem to get themselvs most of the time. I always act nice and kind to everyone ( most of the time anyways) and look what i get back.. i get all this shit.. and i dont liek it.. people need to deal with their own problems.. anbd not blame me i am already going through so much shit.. and if you say you understand maybe.. you understand only a little biut.. not all of it.. unless if i have talked to you personally and told you everything.. those would be the people who i trsut.. the people that i know care a little bit.if not alot. but sometimes i wish people would care.. like maybe call to see where i was or call to see hopw i was or.. just call to hang out and do soemthing.. but nope.. i havent gotten any calls and i am sure i wont qat all in the future. yeah thats why it seems liek no one tends to care because no one seems to do anything to cheer me up.. o well i gues i am sorta alone but o well thats who i am.. if people want to be my friend they can... if they hate me thats their problem and they have to deal iwth it.. i wish people would ten to deal with their own problems instead of blame them on me. no wonder no one likes me because i tend to get a false image from people. but if people tend to know the real me.. the kid who is nice and caring.. maybe more people will understand what i am trying to do.but for now no one seem to care and no one seem to want to iunderstand and really who wants to understand me
If this doesn't epitomize what goes on inside the heads of most American teens between 13 & 19, I can't think of anything else use for an example. I do know that with teens, there is always "the rest of the story" and I always go into these situations fully aware that there is more than meets the eye. I don't think the church needs to have "The Answer" as much as I think the church needs to have the spiritual latitude to provide growing room for youth so they have the freedom to not just explore Jesus, but their own lives as well.
1.16.2006
I Wanna Know What Love Is
Lou Graham, when he sang the song with Foreigner years ago, yearned to know what love really is:
How many of us really know what "love" is?
We have gotten such a whacked-out definition that we probably wouldn't know what love is if it were pinned to our noses with a namebadge. The phrase, "I love you" can mean a plethora of things depending on when you say it, to whom you say it, and even where you say it.
One of my pet peeves is how everyone becomes totally homosexually charged over the expression of love. It has totally destroyed the pure, respectful form of love that exists between two close friends. It is a non-sexual kind of love that bonds two people. My mom once placed a newspaper clipping on my mirror as a senior-high school student that really stuck with me. It was a column written by a psychologist showing that research had found that men and/or boys (in particular) who have had (or currently has) a "close, intimate friendship" with another male tends to make for a better husband because the man can first see his wife as a friend before seeing her as a sex object or as his lover.
The problem is that society has branded any guy ...or gal, really... who has anything remotely connected to a "close, intimate friendship" as "gay". How sad. How sad it is to pervert such a pure form of human expression. How sad to taint the bond that could be the sustenance for a guy's manhood. How sad to fling a guilt complex on something so liberating?
To me, the coolest thing to see is to watch two guys who are straight, but are close, intimate friends...who are so uninhibited in their friendship that they can freely express their feelings toward one another & are unaffected by public opinion...or peer pressure. There is something that is unexplainable which happens when I am with a friend who I can be myself & express myself in both body language & in verbal language. I can look my friend in the eye and know that he & I are on the same page when I express to him how much I love him, respect him, and admire him. And, when my friend places his arm around my shoulders & holds me as a non-verbal way to show support, encouragement, or (in a few cases) sympathy, it totally frees my soul.
Granted, a man should have very few secrets from his mate - his wife - but a man also has a few secrets that is reserved for a close male friend who understands the feelings & struggles men face. Let's face it: Women are very understanding...but they don't understand everything. And I do not think there is anything "gay" about a man expressing feelings of love & closeness with another man. The bible is quite clear as to what, specifically, homosexual love is:
There's pretty much no argument what is meant here, folks. I think a lot more guys would have a lot less anxiety if they were a lot more open to having close, intimate friendships. Everyone who sees two young boys as in the days of Huckleberry Finn walking along, arm-in-arm with fishing poles in hand, thinks this is such a wholesome sight. Yet if they see two guys walking arm-in-arm down a sidewalk or in a park or mall it is automatically assumed the two have a "thing" going between them.
As for me, I will continue to be me. Folks will continue to make their assumptions about me. And I will continue to care less. I do know that I am fulfilled because I have a few close, intimate friendships that I can always fall back on where I can open up uninhibited & pour out my heart to my friend & likewise, let him pour out his heart on me while I lovingly hold him & let him be totally at ease in his manhood.
Then I can go to my wife to enjoy a deeper love that includes the sexual side & know that I have a good balance on what I want to know love is. You have to be confident in what you know about love in order to fully know what love is. You have to be comfortable in your definition of love for you to embrace what love really is. And when this happens, you can recognize love in its many varying forms & know how to respond, when to respond, and where to respond to the love that is being expressed.
I refuse to let the gay agenda set my agenda on what I know about love.
I gotta take a little time
A little time to think things over
I better read between the lines
In case I need it when I’m older
Now this mountain I must climb
Feels like a world upon my shoulders
I through the clouds I see love shine
It keeps me warm as life grows colder
In my life there’s been heartache and pain
I don’t know if I can face it again
Can’t stop now, I’ve traveled so far
To change this lonely life
I wanna know what love is
How many of us really know what "love" is?
We have gotten such a whacked-out definition that we probably wouldn't know what love is if it were pinned to our noses with a namebadge. The phrase, "I love you" can mean a plethora of things depending on when you say it, to whom you say it, and even where you say it.
One of my pet peeves is how everyone becomes totally homosexually charged over the expression of love. It has totally destroyed the pure, respectful form of love that exists between two close friends. It is a non-sexual kind of love that bonds two people. My mom once placed a newspaper clipping on my mirror as a senior-high school student that really stuck with me. It was a column written by a psychologist showing that research had found that men and/or boys (in particular) who have had (or currently has) a "close, intimate friendship" with another male tends to make for a better husband because the man can first see his wife as a friend before seeing her as a sex object or as his lover.
The problem is that society has branded any guy ...or gal, really... who has anything remotely connected to a "close, intimate friendship" as "gay". How sad. How sad it is to pervert such a pure form of human expression. How sad to taint the bond that could be the sustenance for a guy's manhood. How sad to fling a guilt complex on something so liberating?
To me, the coolest thing to see is to watch two guys who are straight, but are close, intimate friends...who are so uninhibited in their friendship that they can freely express their feelings toward one another & are unaffected by public opinion...or peer pressure. There is something that is unexplainable which happens when I am with a friend who I can be myself & express myself in both body language & in verbal language. I can look my friend in the eye and know that he & I are on the same page when I express to him how much I love him, respect him, and admire him. And, when my friend places his arm around my shoulders & holds me as a non-verbal way to show support, encouragement, or (in a few cases) sympathy, it totally frees my soul.
Granted, a man should have very few secrets from his mate - his wife - but a man also has a few secrets that is reserved for a close male friend who understands the feelings & struggles men face. Let's face it: Women are very understanding...but they don't understand everything. And I do not think there is anything "gay" about a man expressing feelings of love & closeness with another man. The bible is quite clear as to what, specifically, homosexual love is:
If a man sleeps with a man as with a woman, they have both committed an
abomination. They must be put to death; their blood is on their own hands. -
Lev. 20:13 [HCSB]
There's pretty much no argument what is meant here, folks. I think a lot more guys would have a lot less anxiety if they were a lot more open to having close, intimate friendships. Everyone who sees two young boys as in the days of Huckleberry Finn walking along, arm-in-arm with fishing poles in hand, thinks this is such a wholesome sight. Yet if they see two guys walking arm-in-arm down a sidewalk or in a park or mall it is automatically assumed the two have a "thing" going between them.
As for me, I will continue to be me. Folks will continue to make their assumptions about me. And I will continue to care less. I do know that I am fulfilled because I have a few close, intimate friendships that I can always fall back on where I can open up uninhibited & pour out my heart to my friend & likewise, let him pour out his heart on me while I lovingly hold him & let him be totally at ease in his manhood.
Then I can go to my wife to enjoy a deeper love that includes the sexual side & know that I have a good balance on what I want to know love is. You have to be confident in what you know about love in order to fully know what love is. You have to be comfortable in your definition of love for you to embrace what love really is. And when this happens, you can recognize love in its many varying forms & know how to respond, when to respond, and where to respond to the love that is being expressed.
I refuse to let the gay agenda set my agenda on what I know about love.
1.06.2006
Christmas is over: I need a VACATION!
Did I just go through a time warp? They've always said the holidays are the busiest time of the year. And when I wasn't busy, I would sit long enough for my eyelids to begin drooping to the point I would just get up & go to bed. Gosh, I'm starting to act like my father.
Actually looking over the recently departed Christmas holiday, it seemed to be a lot more of a flashpoint than in previous ones. More people have been making issues over whether or not to wish another a "Merry Christmas" or a "happy holidays" greeting. More schools have been weighing whether or not to exclude any Christmas carols from their choral presentations. And a few retail chains had egg on their faces when they tried to de-Christianize Christmas.
On the Sunday before Christmas, I heard a timely message on "The War on Christmas". It was during a month-long emphasis called, "The Christmas Chronicles" which was a clever play on the current buzz over C.S. Lewis' adaptation of The Lion, The Witch, & The Wardrobe motion picture which has the box office buzzing. The question was asked of the church: Are you making Christ famous or infamous by your actions? And what can you do in 2006 to make Christ famous?
The first think I think about if I consider somone famous is whether or not they have respect. If they have a lot of respect I would say they are pretty famous. If, on the other hand, they have a lot of disrespect then I would call them, "infamous". I wonder how much respect the church - Christians in general - are generating for Jesus? Are we "aiding & abetting the enemy" when we cast aspersion upon the Cross by our chaotic behavior?
Take Pat Robertson. His screwball "prophecies" saying that God is punishing New Orleans because of Katrina or that God is punishing Israel or its Prime Minister (who is near death at this time from bleeding on the brain) is not polishing any silver when it comes to giving Christianity a sparkling reputation. If we're going to follow that trail, I have to wonder about what God is doing in Tulsa, OK when a member of the Southern Baptist Convention's Executive Board (and a well-known pastor who has been critically outspoken against same-sex marriages & homosexuality) was busted propositioning a male prostitute.
We've become so polarized by our beliefs that we're no longer focusing on each other. We will always have differences no matter what. We can see these differences and note them in our mental journal, but we do not have to let these differences act as blockades to our interaction with each other.
In the middle of all the cerebral brickabrack on Christmas as a Christian holiday, is the physical effort one must make to keep momentum during this month-long marathon. We have Christmas parties to attend, church plays to support or prepare for, Christmas Eve services to plan, familes to visit, food to cook, people to see, parties to host, ....egad! Pretty soon, it's January.
You know, come to think of it...I kind of like January. Nice & quiet. No holidays. Just a normal month... I'll savor every day of it.
Actually looking over the recently departed Christmas holiday, it seemed to be a lot more of a flashpoint than in previous ones. More people have been making issues over whether or not to wish another a "Merry Christmas" or a "happy holidays" greeting. More schools have been weighing whether or not to exclude any Christmas carols from their choral presentations. And a few retail chains had egg on their faces when they tried to de-Christianize Christmas.
On the Sunday before Christmas, I heard a timely message on "The War on Christmas". It was during a month-long emphasis called, "The Christmas Chronicles" which was a clever play on the current buzz over C.S. Lewis' adaptation of The Lion, The Witch, & The Wardrobe motion picture which has the box office buzzing. The question was asked of the church: Are you making Christ famous or infamous by your actions? And what can you do in 2006 to make Christ famous?
The first think I think about if I consider somone famous is whether or not they have respect. If they have a lot of respect I would say they are pretty famous. If, on the other hand, they have a lot of disrespect then I would call them, "infamous". I wonder how much respect the church - Christians in general - are generating for Jesus? Are we "aiding & abetting the enemy" when we cast aspersion upon the Cross by our chaotic behavior?
Take Pat Robertson. His screwball "prophecies" saying that God is punishing New Orleans because of Katrina or that God is punishing Israel or its Prime Minister (who is near death at this time from bleeding on the brain) is not polishing any silver when it comes to giving Christianity a sparkling reputation. If we're going to follow that trail, I have to wonder about what God is doing in Tulsa, OK when a member of the Southern Baptist Convention's Executive Board (and a well-known pastor who has been critically outspoken against same-sex marriages & homosexuality) was busted propositioning a male prostitute.
We've become so polarized by our beliefs that we're no longer focusing on each other. We will always have differences no matter what. We can see these differences and note them in our mental journal, but we do not have to let these differences act as blockades to our interaction with each other.
In the middle of all the cerebral brickabrack on Christmas as a Christian holiday, is the physical effort one must make to keep momentum during this month-long marathon. We have Christmas parties to attend, church plays to support or prepare for, Christmas Eve services to plan, familes to visit, food to cook, people to see, parties to host, ....egad! Pretty soon, it's January.
You know, come to think of it...I kind of like January. Nice & quiet. No holidays. Just a normal month... I'll savor every day of it.
12.03.2005
Grandma Ruby
This past Thanksgiving, my family & I made our annual trek (my 42st consecutive one) to Southwest Arkansas to visit the Leslie clan (or tribe, as it's beginning to be called of late) at the Leslie Reunion. Almost 90 or more were gathered to eat, fellowship, pinch cheeks, hug necks, and see how everyone had changed since last Thanksgiving.
Each branch of the family that originated from my Great-grandfather, W.S. Leslie, would get up & pose in a group for photos & elect a spokesperson from each family within the branch to introduce each member. The Leslie Reunion began in 1960 at the request of my Great-grandfather & so far shows no sign of slowing down.
The matriarch of my immediate family was, again, too feeble to make the reunion. Grandma Ruby, nearing 100, has been in a nursing home for years but has faithfully been visited by me & as many of my family as can make it down from PA to see her every year. This year was no exception. Grandma Ruby begins looking for me sometime around September & is often convinced that I am down the hall from her calling for my mom.
Grandma Ruby raised 4 boys & a girl so she knew the "in's & out's" of people like me. She lived with me for many years and has had a profound impact upon my life. Last year, Grandma was diagnosed with breast cancer but is not in any pain (none that she'd admit to). She does not want any treatment but chooses to complete her life as it is. I'm not sure if I'll be making the trip to the nursing home next Thanksgiving to see her or not, but it doesn't really bother me. I am at peace with her situation & my relationship to her. I know where she'll be going in Eternity and I have had no regrets about my history with her.
If I can say anything about one aspect of her life that has impacted me, it would be that in nearly every one of my memories of her, she has always been laughing. If she wasn't laughing, she was making others laugh. She was always positive and always believing in the best in a situation. And she could laugh at herself better than anyone else could. Grandma Ruby outlived 3 husbands - the first being my paternal Grandfather, Berlie Leslie, who died when my dad was a teenager of the dreaded disease tuberculosis. The second being a man I vaguely remember as "Papa Gus" Tolleson, and the third was the man I could regard as my true "grandpa", Isaac McDaniel, who Grandma met while still in her 70s. He brought her much joy in her so late in her life. His sharp wit was a perfect match for her sense of humor.
Grandma Ruby was not overly "spiritual", but she was spirited. She respected & honored her Lord & Savior Jesus Christ, but she didn't rub Him into anyone else's face. She enjoyed a good glass of home made muskidine wine as much as she enjoyed making the wild cherry jelly from the dozens of quarts of cherries I had picked while climbing in the trees near my house as a boy. She could tell & would enjoy hearing any joke that had just a slight tinge of "blue"...but none that were too coarse. And you could always feel free to make any comments about her "big butt" or about her being an "old fart" without any fear of offending her.
I am thankful that my children have been able to experience getting to know Grandma Ruby and I'm glad she has been able to see her great-grandsons grow up in front of her. I do not think she really comprehends the tremendous impact she has made upon our family. I do know that I will have a part of Grandma Ruby in my life until I, too, leave this earth & join her in Heaven...where she will be doing a lot of what she does even now in a rest home.
Laughing.
Each branch of the family that originated from my Great-grandfather, W.S. Leslie, would get up & pose in a group for photos & elect a spokesperson from each family within the branch to introduce each member. The Leslie Reunion began in 1960 at the request of my Great-grandfather & so far shows no sign of slowing down.
The matriarch of my immediate family was, again, too feeble to make the reunion. Grandma Ruby, nearing 100, has been in a nursing home for years but has faithfully been visited by me & as many of my family as can make it down from PA to see her every year. This year was no exception. Grandma Ruby begins looking for me sometime around September & is often convinced that I am down the hall from her calling for my mom.
Grandma Ruby raised 4 boys & a girl so she knew the "in's & out's" of people like me. She lived with me for many years and has had a profound impact upon my life. Last year, Grandma was diagnosed with breast cancer but is not in any pain (none that she'd admit to). She does not want any treatment but chooses to complete her life as it is. I'm not sure if I'll be making the trip to the nursing home next Thanksgiving to see her or not, but it doesn't really bother me. I am at peace with her situation & my relationship to her. I know where she'll be going in Eternity and I have had no regrets about my history with her.
If I can say anything about one aspect of her life that has impacted me, it would be that in nearly every one of my memories of her, she has always been laughing. If she wasn't laughing, she was making others laugh. She was always positive and always believing in the best in a situation. And she could laugh at herself better than anyone else could. Grandma Ruby outlived 3 husbands - the first being my paternal Grandfather, Berlie Leslie, who died when my dad was a teenager of the dreaded disease tuberculosis. The second being a man I vaguely remember as "Papa Gus" Tolleson, and the third was the man I could regard as my true "grandpa", Isaac McDaniel, who Grandma met while still in her 70s. He brought her much joy in her so late in her life. His sharp wit was a perfect match for her sense of humor.
Grandma Ruby was not overly "spiritual", but she was spirited. She respected & honored her Lord & Savior Jesus Christ, but she didn't rub Him into anyone else's face. She enjoyed a good glass of home made muskidine wine as much as she enjoyed making the wild cherry jelly from the dozens of quarts of cherries I had picked while climbing in the trees near my house as a boy. She could tell & would enjoy hearing any joke that had just a slight tinge of "blue"...but none that were too coarse. And you could always feel free to make any comments about her "big butt" or about her being an "old fart" without any fear of offending her.
I am thankful that my children have been able to experience getting to know Grandma Ruby and I'm glad she has been able to see her great-grandsons grow up in front of her. I do not think she really comprehends the tremendous impact she has made upon our family. I do know that I will have a part of Grandma Ruby in my life until I, too, leave this earth & join her in Heaven...where she will be doing a lot of what she does even now in a rest home.
Laughing.
10.25.2005
Institutional Racist
Yeah. I'm an institutional racist. I graduated from a university that smears the name & the image...not to mention the honor of a race of people. We aggressively & routinely remind students & fans of our football team of the primitive and backward beginnings of the Native American people. We mock their sacred traditions and dress. We meaninglessly chant the sacred Native American battle cries at sporting events. Yes, my Alma Mater, Arkansas State University chose to christen their athletic program with the Indian mascot because they felt it was the most adequate method of insulting all Native Americans and to elevate the superiority of the white man above the savages.
Is that what these groups want us to say?? Well, I said it.
Now get over it.
The Comanche Nation College of Lawton, Oklahoma (note...they come from over 250 miles away...in another state!) has been beleagering the Faculty Senate at ASU about changing the University's mascot.
I went to the school's website. I saw their faculty. I have more fingers & toes than they have staff. And just how is having a mascot, which actually honors Native Americans & their tenatious spirit, can be views in an aggressive or offensive manner is purely beyond my scope. Heck, if I were in the Faculty Senate at ASU, I would give them written permission to call the Comanche Nation College football team the "Commanche Nation College Palefaces"!! It wouldn't bother me.
Furthermore, I would also tell this windbag former student that when the State of Oklahoma changes IT'S name, ASU will change their mascot.
I looked up "Oklahoma" and found this:
Oh, now that should really rile up ol' Daffron.
I had always thought choosing a mascot was a way of honoring something...not insulting it. Will all the Audobon Society members start flocking to schools who call their athletic teams "the Eagles"?? Will we start seeing Jack Hanna at the Columbus Zoo start bringing lawsuits against schools for their derrogatory depictions of Tigers?
Brian is the Adjunct Professor of English at CNC. Maybe he can use the fine education he received at ASU to do some serious research as to how the use of the Indian mascot is damaging to Native Americans...and make it pertinent to ASU. Not to the general Native American public. I guess keeping the authenticity of the Native American spirit alive doesn't count...unless it's done by a Comanche.
Is that what these groups want us to say?? Well, I said it.
Now get over it.
The Comanche Nation College of Lawton, Oklahoma (note...they come from over 250 miles away...in another state!) has been beleagering the Faculty Senate at ASU about changing the University's mascot.
Brian Daffron, a former ASU student, and his family were present to provide a Native American perspective on the Indian mascot issue. Daffron, who teaches at Comanche Nation College, thanked the faculty for passing resolutions in recent years aimed at getting rid of the Indian mascot. Daffron spoke with enthusiasm about the need to do away with the mascot.
- from The Herald of Arkansas State University
I went to the school's website. I saw their faculty. I have more fingers & toes than they have staff. And just how is having a mascot, which actually honors Native Americans & their tenatious spirit, can be views in an aggressive or offensive manner is purely beyond my scope. Heck, if I were in the Faculty Senate at ASU, I would give them written permission to call the Comanche Nation College football team the "Commanche Nation College Palefaces"!! It wouldn't bother me.
Furthermore, I would also tell this windbag former student that when the State of Oklahoma changes IT'S name, ASU will change their mascot.
Daffron concluded that the ASU Indian family’s depiction of Native Americans was offensive to many, calling it institutional racism.
I looked up "Oklahoma" and found this:
The name Oklahoma comes from the language of the Choctaw people, who were removed from Mississippi to "Indian Territory" by the United States Government in the early to mid-1800s. "Oklahoma" is a combination of two Choctaw words: okla which means "people," (as in the term "Miliki okla," which means "American people"), and homa, "homma," or "humma," various spellings of the Choctaw word which means, among other denotations, "red." - From Wikipedia, the free encyclopediaRED?
Oh, now that should really rile up ol' Daffron.
I had always thought choosing a mascot was a way of honoring something...not insulting it. Will all the Audobon Society members start flocking to schools who call their athletic teams "the Eagles"?? Will we start seeing Jack Hanna at the Columbus Zoo start bringing lawsuits against schools for their derrogatory depictions of Tigers?
Brian is the Adjunct Professor of English at CNC. Maybe he can use the fine education he received at ASU to do some serious research as to how the use of the Indian mascot is damaging to Native Americans...and make it pertinent to ASU. Not to the general Native American public. I guess keeping the authenticity of the Native American spirit alive doesn't count...unless it's done by a Comanche.
10.12.2005
Thank Mom
You know of the "mother's curse", don't you?
It's when your mom says to you, "You just wait. I hope you have one just like you were!"
My mom said it to me. I she got what she wanted. And she's not even around anymore to laugh. My genes are evenly distributed between my two boys. My oldest got my gift of gab & my outgoing personality. My youngest got my temperment. All of it. And he got just as much patience in life as I did, which ain't saying much. Oh, and did I mention that he was the Leslie who got all of the bullheadedness? This is a trait that comes from a looong line of ancestors. Actually, my oldest got some of this, too. But the "bullheaded Leslie" trait was most generous to my youngest.
Not only does this mean he wants it his way and his way only, but it also means that he ain't going to wait long for it eather.
Take going to have our annual Christmas pictures taken for example. When we make our appointment at Sears for this, the clerk has come to begin asking their supervisor for overtime. If the photographer moves Daniel's hands to his lap, he will immediately move them to each side. If we say, "smile", he will pucker. When I press for his cooperation, he has a meltdown in tears. One year it was so bad that the photo showed his stained face despite the computer touch-ups.
Today, I told him that in order for him to be able to watch TV or play, he is to make his bed & pick up his toys. He declared he didn't want to do that, so I gave him a choice: Either do as he was asked or he could choose to sit on his unmade bed for the duration of the day, alone in his room. So he chose to make his bed...but got majorly impatient when he put his bedspread on because it was twisted. He did not have the patience to untwist it & only become more bullheaded, frustrated, and angry the more he fought with the spread. So I told him he could sit on his bed until he cooled off.
Yeah, now that was a thought.
He sat on his bed & wailed, "I want my moooooooom-my!!!!" Then I heard grunting noises as if he were struggling with something. When I went in, there he was pulling at his shirt apparently trying to rip it to shreds. That one got him a paddling and he still had to sit on his bed.
Nevertheless, since I have walked more than a mile in his shoes, I knew what it was going to take to get my goal accomplished in this child. And I won the battle of wills - this time.
And don't even get me started about the potty training.
I can only pray that God is gracious enough to allow Mom to watch this sight from her perch in Heaven. I know if she is, she is getting plenty of satisfaction. And I also think that she would be quite proud of how well I've been able to handle the situation. At least I know what to expect...and what happens next.
Before you get the idea that this kid is a little hellion, let me also be quick to point out that this bullheaded Leslie of mine can charm the socks right off both feet simultaneously. His brown eyes can roll around grab you by the heart & hold on for dear life. When being told goodnight at bedtime, he wraps one arm around my neck & places the other hand on my mouth to "shush" me. Then, he whispers that he has a secret...only to whisper some gibberish in my ear that I pretend to understand. Then he yells out, "Dad! Don't go yet!" and holds me down by the neck in a vicious headlock.
I really don't feel like fighting him on this issue anyway.
It's when your mom says to you, "You just wait. I hope you have one just like you were!"
My mom said it to me. I she got what she wanted. And she's not even around anymore to laugh. My genes are evenly distributed between my two boys. My oldest got my gift of gab & my outgoing personality. My youngest got my temperment. All of it. And he got just as much patience in life as I did, which ain't saying much. Oh, and did I mention that he was the Leslie who got all of the bullheadedness? This is a trait that comes from a looong line of ancestors. Actually, my oldest got some of this, too. But the "bullheaded Leslie" trait was most generous to my youngest.
Not only does this mean he wants it his way and his way only, but it also means that he ain't going to wait long for it eather.
Take going to have our annual Christmas pictures taken for example. When we make our appointment at Sears for this, the clerk has come to begin asking their supervisor for overtime. If the photographer moves Daniel's hands to his lap, he will immediately move them to each side. If we say, "smile", he will pucker. When I press for his cooperation, he has a meltdown in tears. One year it was so bad that the photo showed his stained face despite the computer touch-ups.
Today, I told him that in order for him to be able to watch TV or play, he is to make his bed & pick up his toys. He declared he didn't want to do that, so I gave him a choice: Either do as he was asked or he could choose to sit on his unmade bed for the duration of the day, alone in his room. So he chose to make his bed...but got majorly impatient when he put his bedspread on because it was twisted. He did not have the patience to untwist it & only become more bullheaded, frustrated, and angry the more he fought with the spread. So I told him he could sit on his bed until he cooled off.
Yeah, now that was a thought.
He sat on his bed & wailed, "I want my moooooooom-my!!!!" Then I heard grunting noises as if he were struggling with something. When I went in, there he was pulling at his shirt apparently trying to rip it to shreds. That one got him a paddling and he still had to sit on his bed.
Nevertheless, since I have walked more than a mile in his shoes, I knew what it was going to take to get my goal accomplished in this child. And I won the battle of wills - this time.
And don't even get me started about the potty training.
I can only pray that God is gracious enough to allow Mom to watch this sight from her perch in Heaven. I know if she is, she is getting plenty of satisfaction. And I also think that she would be quite proud of how well I've been able to handle the situation. At least I know what to expect...and what happens next.
Before you get the idea that this kid is a little hellion, let me also be quick to point out that this bullheaded Leslie of mine can charm the socks right off both feet simultaneously. His brown eyes can roll around grab you by the heart & hold on for dear life. When being told goodnight at bedtime, he wraps one arm around my neck & places the other hand on my mouth to "shush" me. Then, he whispers that he has a secret...only to whisper some gibberish in my ear that I pretend to understand. Then he yells out, "Dad! Don't go yet!" and holds me down by the neck in a vicious headlock.
I really don't feel like fighting him on this issue anyway.
9.22.2005
Troubled Times...?
PLANET-DISSOLVING DUST CLOUD IS HEADED TOWARD EARTH!
It was spewed from a black hole 28,000 light years from Earth and is vaporizing everything in its path, astronomers say!
Okay, it was a headline from the Weekly World News, but nevertheless it does makes for a rather foreboding forcast. And today I've had a disjointed, chaotic day at work where I had to do 3 different jobs just to complete one simple one...and all day on the news we're watching a very slow, strengthening Hurricane Rita swirl its way toward the coast of Galveston, TX. My aunt called saying she's packing up & heading out of Pearland, TX (where she's lived all my natural life) which is situated just south of Houston.
As I was getting ready for work this morning, I wondered if what I've been saying will really happen. I've always believed that I would not die a natural death...but would live to see the coming of Christ in my lifetime. I'm sure many before me thought the same thing when life around them seemed to spin out of control. Yet I wonder, "Is this the time?" Prophets have said that strange occurrances will happen prior to the day of Christ's return. But are these the occurrances or will we have occurrances even stranger yet?
Enter the Weekly World News.
It was spewed from a black hole 28,000 light years from Earth and is vaporizing everything in its path, astronomers say!
Okay, it was a headline from the Weekly World News, but nevertheless it does makes for a rather foreboding forcast. And today I've had a disjointed, chaotic day at work where I had to do 3 different jobs just to complete one simple one...and all day on the news we're watching a very slow, strengthening Hurricane Rita swirl its way toward the coast of Galveston, TX. My aunt called saying she's packing up & heading out of Pearland, TX (where she's lived all my natural life) which is situated just south of Houston.
As I was getting ready for work this morning, I wondered if what I've been saying will really happen. I've always believed that I would not die a natural death...but would live to see the coming of Christ in my lifetime. I'm sure many before me thought the same thing when life around them seemed to spin out of control. Yet I wonder, "Is this the time?" Prophets have said that strange occurrances will happen prior to the day of Christ's return. But are these the occurrances or will we have occurrances even stranger yet?
Enter the Weekly World News.
Scared-stiff astronomers have detected a mysterious mass
they've dubbed a "chaos cloud" that dissolves everything in its path, including comets, asteroids, planets and entire stars -- and it's headed directly toward Earth!
Discovered April 6 by NASA's Chandra X-ray Observatory, the swirling, 10 million-mile- wide cosmic dust cloud has been likened to an "acid nebula" and is hurtling toward us at close to the speed of light -- making its estimated time of arrival 9:15 a.m. EDT on June 1, 2014.
"The good news is that this finding confirms several cutting- edge ideas in theoretical physics," announced Dr. Albert Sherwinski, a Cambridge based astrophysicist with close
ties to NASA.
"The bad news is that the total annihilation of our solar
system is imminent."
Experts believe the chaos cloud is composed of
particles spawned near the event horizon of a black hole (a form of what's called Hawking Radiation) that have been distorted by mangled information spewed from the hole.
"A super-massive black hole lies about 28,000
light-years from Earth at the center of our galaxy," explained Dr. Sherwinski.
"Last year the eminent physicist Stephen Hawking revised his theory of black holes -- which previously held that nothing could escape the hole's powerful gravitational field. He demonstrated that information about objects that have been sucked in can be emitted in mangled form.
"It now appears that mangled information can distort matter.
"Just imagine our galaxy the Milky Way as a beautiful, handwritten letter.
"Now imagine pouring a glass of water on the paper and watching the words dissolve as the stain spreads. That's what the chaos cloud does to every star or planet it encounters."
To avoid widespread panic, NASA has declined to make the alarming discovery public. But Dr. Sherwinski's contacts at the agency's Chandra X-ray Observatory leaked to him striking images of the newly discovered chaos cloud obliterating a large asteroid.
"It's like watching a helpless hog being dissolved in a vat of acid," one NASA scientist told Dr. Sherwinski.
Ordinarily, Hawkings Radiation is harmless.
"It's produced when an electron- positron pair are at the event horizon of a black hole," Dr. Sherwinski explained. "The intense curvature of space-time of the hole can cause the positron to fall in, while the electron escapes."
But when "infected" by mangled information from the black hole, the particles become a chaos cloud, which in turn mangles everything it touches.
"If it continues unchecked, the chaos cloud will eventually reduce our galaxy to the state of absolute chaos that existed before the birth of the universe," the astrophysicist warned.
Some scientists say mankind's best hope would be to build a "space ark" and hightail it to the Andromeda Galaxy, 2.1 million light-years away.
"We wouldn't be able to save the entire human population, but perhaps the best and the brightest," observed British rocket scientist Dr. David Hall, when asked about the feasibility of such a project.
But even if such a craft could be built in time, evacuating Earth might prove fruitless if theories about the origin of the chaos cloud are correct.
"A black hole at the center of Andromeda is about 15 times the size of the one in our own galaxy," Dr. Sherwinski noted. "It might be like jumping out of the frying pan into the fire."
Speaking under the condition of anonymity, a senior White House official said the president's top science advisors are taking the findings in stride.
"This is a lot like global warming, where the jury is still out on whether it's real or not," said the official.
"The existence of this so called chaos cloud is only a theory. Americans shouldn't panic until all the facts are in."
However, who's to say what factual is? Of one thing I can be certain: While I may not know what will happen the next day, I am certain of my outcome. God help me to make it to that point.
9.08.2005
Katrina Was MY Fault!
I'll admit it.
I did it.
I caused Katrina. I was responsible for the torrent of water & wind that completely inundated New Orleans & leveled most of southwest Mississippi. I was the one who dumbfounded the New Orleans Emergency Management Operations and the one who interruped the flow of information from FEMA to the local & state authorities.
I did it all.
Now, you have a confession so maybe this will keep you from blaming God, blaming President George W. Bush, blaming FEMA, or blaming the rich white bigots.
Here's a newsflash: Nobody OWES you anything. You must take responsibility for all the actions you did or did NOT do....such as "making like Noah and getting the FLOCK out of New Orleans" when every weather bureau in the country was giving descriptions of what would happen to buildings, trees, and canals before the catagory 4 storm made landfall.
So many in the storm area was expecting something I would call a, "McStorm" instead of what really plowed through their city. So many expected an arsenal of rescue personnel to be standing on their guard around the perimiter of the city to immediately surge in after the storm surge to rescue them after they REFUSED to leave town after the warnings.
I have no problem with those who chose to stay & ride out the storm. But don't go blaming anyone other than yourself for what happens if you do. It is no different than not voting and then complaining about the unfairness of the voting system. It's just not consistent.
Personally, I can think of no other man to have at the helm of this country than George W. Bush during these last several years. And for that matter, while I would prefer not to be in any catastrophy, I can think of no better country to endure a catastrophy than the United States of America.
I did it.
I caused Katrina. I was responsible for the torrent of water & wind that completely inundated New Orleans & leveled most of southwest Mississippi. I was the one who dumbfounded the New Orleans Emergency Management Operations and the one who interruped the flow of information from FEMA to the local & state authorities.
I did it all.
Now, you have a confession so maybe this will keep you from blaming God, blaming President George W. Bush, blaming FEMA, or blaming the rich white bigots.
Here's a newsflash: Nobody OWES you anything. You must take responsibility for all the actions you did or did NOT do....such as "making like Noah and getting the FLOCK out of New Orleans" when every weather bureau in the country was giving descriptions of what would happen to buildings, trees, and canals before the catagory 4 storm made landfall.
So many in the storm area was expecting something I would call a, "McStorm" instead of what really plowed through their city. So many expected an arsenal of rescue personnel to be standing on their guard around the perimiter of the city to immediately surge in after the storm surge to rescue them after they REFUSED to leave town after the warnings.
I have no problem with those who chose to stay & ride out the storm. But don't go blaming anyone other than yourself for what happens if you do. It is no different than not voting and then complaining about the unfairness of the voting system. It's just not consistent.
Personally, I can think of no other man to have at the helm of this country than George W. Bush during these last several years. And for that matter, while I would prefer not to be in any catastrophy, I can think of no better country to endure a catastrophy than the United States of America.
9.01.2005
Dazed & Confused
I sit watching the TV, wishing I could just turn it off. But, I can't. It's invisible tractor-beam has me harnessed as thousands -- dazed & confused -- wander aimlessly onto deserted freeways in a metropolitan city known as New Orleans.
They're not the only ones who are dazed & confused.
I, too, am wandering aimlessly. I'm wondering what on earth can I do to help. I am not made of money but I did give to relief organizations and even to individuals who I felt compelled to offer some kind of compassion. I'm dazed at the unending stream of desparation that belches out of the belly of the city...as if it has regurgitated all of its sustinance onto the earth.
New Orleans is becoming a Third World country.
I'm confused at the extremes the victims are going to in their desparation. Rescue efforts being suspended because those with stolen AK-47s are firing at the very hellicopters & other vehicles who are coming to their rescue.
Yet, I should not be surprised. I do not think this is any more the sign of the end times any more than I thought the attacks on New York on 9/11/01 was. However all of the events of our day do add up to point to the end times. Just as the Bible says the earth will groan like a pregnant woman about to give birth, our very planet is approaching the moment when a new Era will be born.
I believe I will see it with my own eyes before I meet a natural death. And, I have a compelling urge to be the messenger to others who do not see what lies ahead.
Not only does the people of New Orleans need to be reminded of this...we all do.
They're not the only ones who are dazed & confused.
I, too, am wandering aimlessly. I'm wondering what on earth can I do to help. I am not made of money but I did give to relief organizations and even to individuals who I felt compelled to offer some kind of compassion. I'm dazed at the unending stream of desparation that belches out of the belly of the city...as if it has regurgitated all of its sustinance onto the earth.
New Orleans is becoming a Third World country.
I'm confused at the extremes the victims are going to in their desparation. Rescue efforts being suspended because those with stolen AK-47s are firing at the very hellicopters & other vehicles who are coming to their rescue.
Yet, I should not be surprised. I do not think this is any more the sign of the end times any more than I thought the attacks on New York on 9/11/01 was. However all of the events of our day do add up to point to the end times. Just as the Bible says the earth will groan like a pregnant woman about to give birth, our very planet is approaching the moment when a new Era will be born.
I believe I will see it with my own eyes before I meet a natural death. And, I have a compelling urge to be the messenger to others who do not see what lies ahead.
14b These are the ones coming out of the great tribulation. They washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.
15 For this reason they are before the throne of God, and they serve Him day and night in His sanctuary. The One seated on the throne will shelter them:
16 no longer will they hunger; no longer will they
thirst; no longer will the sun strike them, or any
heat.
17 Because the Lamb who is at the center of the throne
will shepherd them;He will guide them to springs of living waters,and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes. (Rev. 7; HCSB)
1 Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea existed no longer.
2 I also saw the Holy City, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared like a bride adorned for her husband.
3 Then I heard a loud voice from the throne:Look! God’s dwelling, or tabernacle is with men, and He will live with them. They will be His people, and God Himself will be with them and be their God.
4 He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. Death will exist no longer; grief, crying, and pain will exist no longer, because the previous things have passed away. (Rev. 21; HCSB)
Not only does the people of New Orleans need to be reminded of this...we all do.
8.20.2005
With No Apologies To My Indian Friends...
Stuff like this makes me puke.
The NCAA has now decided that they don't want to ruffle any feathers in the headress of Indian tribes -- oh, excuse me...Native American tribes. They now have decreed that while it is perfectly fine for colleges & universities to choose a mascot such as "Warriors", "Chiefs", or "Indians", those such schools will not be allowed to display their proud mascot at any "post-season" games that would carry the name of the NCAA.
So if my Alma Mater, the Arkansas State University Indians, make it to the play-offs in any sport, they are prohibited from displaying their mascot. What sort of team spirit are the fans going to show then? Textbooks?? I am appalled at the discrimination toward ASU by the NCAA by singling out us, and any other schools in the US who use mascots portraying Indians. Yes, I said "Indians" and yes, I said, "discriminating". They make one discrimination to protect another. How ludicrous.
ASU did not choose the Indian mascot to make fun of Native Americans. In fact, I know of no school who chose a mascot that relates to the Indians in some way did so out of hostility or any other reason. I think it's the white man that is more offended by the use of Indian-related terms than the Red Man. Heck, why don't the NCAA ban the word Arkansas. The very name of the state is a derivative of the Chickasaw Indians.
From ESPN:
RACISM? Oh, fercryinoutloud! These people should get a life. They have way too much time on their hands to be sitting around trying to come up with new ways we are offending people. This kind of crap offends ME.
I have friends who are Indians. One very good friend lived in Buffalo, NY and was a proud member of the Senaca Nation. This is a tribe that literally gave Benjamin Franklin the inspiration to design the United States in a democratic fashion. The Senacas were using a democratic form of government in their tribe centuries before the US even thought of rebelling against the King of England. So, let's just stop using democracy in this country, too, because we are offending the Senacas.
If we're going to jump on this silly bandwagon, just cut the political correctness....and give the land back to the Native Americans! That would do more for this race of people than "protecting" them from some college football team.
Go stAte, GO!
The NCAA has now decided that they don't want to ruffle any feathers in the headress of Indian tribes -- oh, excuse me...Native American tribes. They now have decreed that while it is perfectly fine for colleges & universities to choose a mascot such as "Warriors", "Chiefs", or "Indians", those such schools will not be allowed to display their proud mascot at any "post-season" games that would carry the name of the NCAA.
So if my Alma Mater, the Arkansas State University Indians, make it to the play-offs in any sport, they are prohibited from displaying their mascot. What sort of team spirit are the fans going to show then? Textbooks?? I am appalled at the discrimination toward ASU by the NCAA by singling out us, and any other schools in the US who use mascots portraying Indians. Yes, I said "Indians" and yes, I said, "discriminating". They make one discrimination to protect another. How ludicrous.
ASU did not choose the Indian mascot to make fun of Native Americans. In fact, I know of no school who chose a mascot that relates to the Indians in some way did so out of hostility or any other reason. I think it's the white man that is more offended by the use of Indian-related terms than the Red Man. Heck, why don't the NCAA ban the word Arkansas. The very name of the state is a derivative of the Chickasaw Indians.
From ESPN:
Arkansas State University, whose teams are known as the Indians, said Friday
that their use of the mascot is done with respect and the school's sports teams
will continue to use it.
"It is our objective to represent Native Americans
in a dignified and stately manner," ASU atheltic director Dean Lee said. "We
believe that our use of the nickname 'Indians' and 'The Indian Family' as our
mascot affords the Native American customs and history the fullest respect and
integrity."
Vernon Bellecourt, president of the National Coalition on Racism
in Sports and Media, was pleased with the postseason ban but had hoped for even
stronger action.
RACISM? Oh, fercryinoutloud! These people should get a life. They have way too much time on their hands to be sitting around trying to come up with new ways we are offending people. This kind of crap offends ME.
I have friends who are Indians. One very good friend lived in Buffalo, NY and was a proud member of the Senaca Nation. This is a tribe that literally gave Benjamin Franklin the inspiration to design the United States in a democratic fashion. The Senacas were using a democratic form of government in their tribe centuries before the US even thought of rebelling against the King of England. So, let's just stop using democracy in this country, too, because we are offending the Senacas.
If we're going to jump on this silly bandwagon, just cut the political correctness....and give the land back to the Native Americans! That would do more for this race of people than "protecting" them from some college football team.
Go stAte, GO!
8.13.2005
Are Dry Counties Becoming "All Wet"?
I grew up in my hometown of Booneville, AR and had a great deal of pride in the fact that this little parcel of land in South Logan County was dry. That for miles around, not a drop of alcohol could be bought, sold, or found...legally, at least. Just a few short miles away in North Logan County, in the county seat of Paris, one could get all the booze you could find. My late father would proudly say that if anyone wanted beer, they could drive to Paris & get it and may hopefully not make it back to Booneville if they got too sloshed to drive.
Now, times may be a-changin'. In a recent article in my hometown newspaper, the local town planners raised the question of survival. And it included the possibility of selling alcohol. Now, this would have been unthinkable years ago. But to have it even considered now, I think, shows just how desparate my hometown has become.
I remember when Booneville had the chance to have a new Pizza Hut come into town. Sadly, however, that eatery ended up 28 miles north in the town of Ozark where it is still located to this day. The reason for the move? Booneville would not allow the franchise to serve beer, so the restaurant high-tailed it to (wet) Franklin County. And so the trend continued with my hometown for the 30 or more years since.
An interesting quote from the newspaper article from the local Chamber of Commerce executive director:
Now, times may be a-changin'. In a recent article in my hometown newspaper, the local town planners raised the question of survival. And it included the possibility of selling alcohol. Now, this would have been unthinkable years ago. But to have it even considered now, I think, shows just how desparate my hometown has become.
I remember when Booneville had the chance to have a new Pizza Hut come into town. Sadly, however, that eatery ended up 28 miles north in the town of Ozark where it is still located to this day. The reason for the move? Booneville would not allow the franchise to serve beer, so the restaurant high-tailed it to (wet) Franklin County. And so the trend continued with my hometown for the 30 or more years since.
An interesting quote from the newspaper article from the local Chamber of Commerce executive director:
it was time the city consider becoming "wet" because dryness has been shown
to not reduce nor stop consumption of alcohol which means taxes from the
purchases are being made in other cities and or counties.
I have been living away from my hometown now since 1986. Yes, I've lived in an entire state that is more or less "wet". Yet I have seen communities that are equally as conservative as my hometown, and serve liquor. I've not seen any difference in the crime or morality that can be attributed to the consumption/distribution of alcohol.
What I did see the last time I visited my dry hometown was a community that looked ragged & run down. I saw homes that cried to be maintained & cared for. I just seemed to me that somewhere during the time I was gone from my hometown, the janitor must've died because everything just seemed to be looking frumpy.
I have come to the conclusion that it is not the element of a vice (i.e. alcohol) that determines a community's appearance. It is character. Alcohol is not the problem. Being "wet" is not the problem. Character is the problem. A community can be up to its proverbial ears in alcohol but if it has good character, it should not affect it.
By character, I mean churches that effectively, lovingly, and discerningly display compassion, correction, and communication about good character. I mean a community that looks out for its citizens. Businesses that take an active role in the lives of the people it serves. Government leaders who are honest & hard working for the residents. Law enforcement who are fair and just that do not play favorites with people. Judicial officals who will not tolerate crime & delinquency and who will be wise in their decisions. And people of the community who take genuine pride in not just their home, but the home of their neighbor and the homes of their neighborhood.
Sometimes, to quote my late father, we cut off our noses to spite our face. I believe this has been the issue of alcohol when it comes to being able to attract new businesses (and new money) to my hometown of Booneville. And, I think the time has come to stop hiding behind the facade of prohibition. Why? Because I know that there may be some who, while sounding off against becoming a "wet" county, are secretly driving out of their "dry" county to buy booze. That is hypocritical. And it's choking the economy of Booneville.
7.31.2005
Love To Like You
Children often can be so transparent. One rarely has to dig deep below the surface of a child's mind. Their innocence & their vulerability is like the sweet glaze on top of a donut. It's very thin, sweet, and easily dissolved. They'll say things at times you not only least expect them to do so, but can say things at time that you'd prefer they not say at all. Like the story about the little boy who, when asked by his Sunday School teacher to tell the rest of the group where he thought God lived, replied, "In my bathroom". The thunderstruck teacher wanted to know where on earth the boy came up with that answer was then caught flatfooted when he told her that his dad would always stand in front of the bathroom door and scream, My God, are you still in there?!?!?"
One of my favorite things to watch on TV are the Art Linkletter/Allen Funt/Bill Cosby type where kids are shown in their purest form saying exactly what's on their minds. They say great wisdom comes with age, but I think you can learn a lot from a child, too.
In this vein, it continues to be dumbfounding to me how anyone can harm a child. How anyone could do harm to another person, for that matter, but especially to a child. A child so trusting and innocent that would be taken advantaged of in the worst possible way. Now in today's world, we must teach children how to scream & carry on to draw attention to themselves should they ever be abducted by some psycho who had persuaded the child to come with them by feigning an attempt to find their lost puppy.
Lord knows I'm no expert parent. I just try to do what I remember my parents doing with me (and whether it worked or not). And I had a good set of parents. I want to get a t-shirt made that says on the front, "I came from a dysfunctional family..." And on the back, it would read, "...my parents stayed married." I was taught about God, mankind, work, sex, reality. I had nothing candy-coated. What is, is "what is". As a family, we are now mulling over the possibility of being foster parents. However one stipulation in the program is that there can be "no physical discipline". What? Yep... no spankings, no hand-slapping, no mouth-boxing...all for disobedience or other forms of misbehavior. We must "softball" our discipline.
We don't do that with our own kids, so we'd either have to change our discipline behavior with everyone or we would have to cause a division between our kids & our foster kids on how we deal with behavior. I'm not sure I like either option. I do spank my kids when they disobey and I even "box their ears down" when they mouth off to me or Mommy. I don't "beat" them, of course, but I have no reservations in "applying the board of education to the seat of learning"...if you know what I mean.
I have two small children, with the oldest just starting kindergarten this fall. The younger is 18 months apart from the oldest. And, true to form, they both are very transparent in what they say or how they react. Many times as I sit at the computer, sit in church, or be somewhere I'm easily accessable to my boys, one of them will occasionally walk up to me & pucker their lips for a quick "peck". My youngest will often sit in my lap at church where he'll reach up & kiss my cheek & I will reciprocate. And this exchange of "butterfly kisses" will be repeated several times.
However one trait that is prevalent is when (usually) my oldest will speak up or come to me & say, "Dad...?" To which I'll reply with, "Yes...?"
"Um. . . " And his gaze will drift upward & you think he's forgotten what it was he wanted to say, before he will continue.
"I like you."
Now this may sound odd to you because one would expect your child to say, "I love you" before saying, "I like you", right? Actually, I think it would be more like stating the obvious if my son did that. You see, in a home that has both firm discipline with love & acceptance one would expect their children to feel "loved". It sort of "comes with the territory".
But to say "I like you" speaks differently. I remember my uncle years ago when he became very angry at my ornery cousin & punished him for his behavior. He snapped to him & said, "I love you, John, but right now I don't like you very much." I thought, "Wow! That is hardcore!" But it was a truthful, authentic expression.
Likewise, when my children say to me, "I like you", I believe they are saying it out of love and it speaks volumes. I think it reveals their contentment, confidence, and their comfort in their relationship with me. I believe every good parent likes to love their children. However, how many have loved to like them?
One of my favorite things to watch on TV are the Art Linkletter/Allen Funt/Bill Cosby type where kids are shown in their purest form saying exactly what's on their minds. They say great wisdom comes with age, but I think you can learn a lot from a child, too.
In this vein, it continues to be dumbfounding to me how anyone can harm a child. How anyone could do harm to another person, for that matter, but especially to a child. A child so trusting and innocent that would be taken advantaged of in the worst possible way. Now in today's world, we must teach children how to scream & carry on to draw attention to themselves should they ever be abducted by some psycho who had persuaded the child to come with them by feigning an attempt to find their lost puppy.
Lord knows I'm no expert parent. I just try to do what I remember my parents doing with me (and whether it worked or not). And I had a good set of parents. I want to get a t-shirt made that says on the front, "I came from a dysfunctional family..." And on the back, it would read, "...my parents stayed married." I was taught about God, mankind, work, sex, reality. I had nothing candy-coated. What is, is "what is". As a family, we are now mulling over the possibility of being foster parents. However one stipulation in the program is that there can be "no physical discipline". What? Yep... no spankings, no hand-slapping, no mouth-boxing...all for disobedience or other forms of misbehavior. We must "softball" our discipline.
We don't do that with our own kids, so we'd either have to change our discipline behavior with everyone or we would have to cause a division between our kids & our foster kids on how we deal with behavior. I'm not sure I like either option. I do spank my kids when they disobey and I even "box their ears down" when they mouth off to me or Mommy. I don't "beat" them, of course, but I have no reservations in "applying the board of education to the seat of learning"...if you know what I mean.
I have two small children, with the oldest just starting kindergarten this fall. The younger is 18 months apart from the oldest. And, true to form, they both are very transparent in what they say or how they react. Many times as I sit at the computer, sit in church, or be somewhere I'm easily accessable to my boys, one of them will occasionally walk up to me & pucker their lips for a quick "peck". My youngest will often sit in my lap at church where he'll reach up & kiss my cheek & I will reciprocate. And this exchange of "butterfly kisses" will be repeated several times.
However one trait that is prevalent is when (usually) my oldest will speak up or come to me & say, "Dad...?" To which I'll reply with, "Yes...?"
"Um. . . " And his gaze will drift upward & you think he's forgotten what it was he wanted to say, before he will continue.
"I like you."
Now this may sound odd to you because one would expect your child to say, "I love you" before saying, "I like you", right? Actually, I think it would be more like stating the obvious if my son did that. You see, in a home that has both firm discipline with love & acceptance one would expect their children to feel "loved". It sort of "comes with the territory".
But to say "I like you" speaks differently. I remember my uncle years ago when he became very angry at my ornery cousin & punished him for his behavior. He snapped to him & said, "I love you, John, but right now I don't like you very much." I thought, "Wow! That is hardcore!" But it was a truthful, authentic expression.
Likewise, when my children say to me, "I like you", I believe they are saying it out of love and it speaks volumes. I think it reveals their contentment, confidence, and their comfort in their relationship with me. I believe every good parent likes to love their children. However, how many have loved to like them?
7.17.2005
Taking Your Shots
There's little that occurrs with me anymore that involves my kids that prevents a lump from forming in my throat. Watching two babies who were barely able to keep their own eyes open grow up into two distinct individuals has its "keeper" moments. Like some that happened over the past year as my oldest son acheived the milestone of 5 years old. He turned 5 as he & his younger brother of 18 months were camping with me at a church-sponsored weekend event. I'm not much of camping solo, but love doing it when in the company of others. And I can think of camping with no one else than those who worship with me each week. My children have been taught & blessed by those in my church & the influence that has been passed on to my children from those in my church have been invaluable.
We awoke on the morning before my son's birthday to find our tend wrapped in blue crepe paper ribbon & a little bag of goodies sitting by the door of our tent. This thrilled my oldest to no end to know that someone other than his own family recognized that he was about to celebrate a birthday. That caused a lump. Hearing my son go from one person to the next at breakfast the next day on our camping trip to ask each person in our church, "Do you know how old I am?" and to hear them respond by faking an incorrect guess caused a lump, too.
This past week, we had to go to the doctor for our physical in order for him to be enrolled in kindergarten. I told him he had to have an "inspection". That seemend to do the trick & keep his mind off the fact he was going to the doctor...and he wasn't even sick. He did real well, too. He cooperated with the nurse when it came time for his eye & ears test. He knew right where to stand on the scale when he was weighed. And he knew what to do when they measured his height along the wall scale. He blabbered the whole time telling the nurse all about his camping experience and that he was now "five" and had received some "cool" presents. We had a private party where he opened all his gifts once we had arrived home from the camping trip & had all had a bath. He got lots of Spiderman goodies which he had to tell everyone he met of his windfall.
Once inside the examination room, he continued to talk all about what he knew was going to happen. He was going to have his "inspection" (a term that appeared to take the nurse aback since I'm sure that term has not been used much for giving someone a physical exam) and he would not cry when he had to get his shots. Keep in mind this boy has a low tolerance for any pain whatsoever. He cannot resist shedding tears when he bumps his elbow. Needless to say, when he got his three shots in the arm, he sqalled like a baby. Yeah, I got a lump then, too. But when he understood that he would be getting a Dilly Bar at Dariy Queen, the tears did not last as long as they used to.
Being a father for 5 years continues to cause me to be baffled more & more at how any anyone could come remotely close to causing harm to a child. It was torture to watch the nurse poke a sharp needle into the arm of my son, and I cannot imagine how anyone could knowingly and deliberately do bodily harm to or worse yet, emotional harm to, a child.
We recently took our boys to the Pittsburgh Children's Museum. In there was the exhibit of Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood. Knowing what I know about the late Fred Rogers, it brought many lumps into my throat listening to the music Rogers had wrote & sang on his PBS TV show and knowing just how much he treasured each little child he entertained on his show. He took so many shots at those who ran his show down or who even ran him down. Yet, he took it all in stride & it impacted the lives of many children all over this nation and this world. Including me.
There will be many things in life that will be taking shots at you in life. Some will be as painfull as a 5 year old sitting through 3 vaccinations in the arm. Yet, all of them...though painful... will act to defend you and protect you from the hostile influences that will infect your life later down the road.
We awoke on the morning before my son's birthday to find our tend wrapped in blue crepe paper ribbon & a little bag of goodies sitting by the door of our tent. This thrilled my oldest to no end to know that someone other than his own family recognized that he was about to celebrate a birthday. That caused a lump. Hearing my son go from one person to the next at breakfast the next day on our camping trip to ask each person in our church, "Do you know how old I am?" and to hear them respond by faking an incorrect guess caused a lump, too.
This past week, we had to go to the doctor for our physical in order for him to be enrolled in kindergarten. I told him he had to have an "inspection". That seemend to do the trick & keep his mind off the fact he was going to the doctor...and he wasn't even sick. He did real well, too. He cooperated with the nurse when it came time for his eye & ears test. He knew right where to stand on the scale when he was weighed. And he knew what to do when they measured his height along the wall scale. He blabbered the whole time telling the nurse all about his camping experience and that he was now "five" and had received some "cool" presents. We had a private party where he opened all his gifts once we had arrived home from the camping trip & had all had a bath. He got lots of Spiderman goodies which he had to tell everyone he met of his windfall.
Once inside the examination room, he continued to talk all about what he knew was going to happen. He was going to have his "inspection" (a term that appeared to take the nurse aback since I'm sure that term has not been used much for giving someone a physical exam) and he would not cry when he had to get his shots. Keep in mind this boy has a low tolerance for any pain whatsoever. He cannot resist shedding tears when he bumps his elbow. Needless to say, when he got his three shots in the arm, he sqalled like a baby. Yeah, I got a lump then, too. But when he understood that he would be getting a Dilly Bar at Dariy Queen, the tears did not last as long as they used to.
Being a father for 5 years continues to cause me to be baffled more & more at how any anyone could come remotely close to causing harm to a child. It was torture to watch the nurse poke a sharp needle into the arm of my son, and I cannot imagine how anyone could knowingly and deliberately do bodily harm to or worse yet, emotional harm to, a child.
We recently took our boys to the Pittsburgh Children's Museum. In there was the exhibit of Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood. Knowing what I know about the late Fred Rogers, it brought many lumps into my throat listening to the music Rogers had wrote & sang on his PBS TV show and knowing just how much he treasured each little child he entertained on his show. He took so many shots at those who ran his show down or who even ran him down. Yet, he took it all in stride & it impacted the lives of many children all over this nation and this world. Including me.
There will be many things in life that will be taking shots at you in life. Some will be as painfull as a 5 year old sitting through 3 vaccinations in the arm. Yet, all of them...though painful... will act to defend you and protect you from the hostile influences that will infect your life later down the road.
6.04.2005
Bonding With An Expatriate
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.
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.
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