Good morning,
I pray the day is finding you well.
I’ve got nothing.
You ever have one of those days when you’ve just got nothing?
It’s not a particularly bad day.
It’s not a particularly good day.
I would call it a normal day.
I got up this morning and had my quiet time.
No big revelations there.
I took a shower, the water cascading over my head, waiting for something.
Nothing.
I drove to the YMCA, waiting.
Nothing.
I took my aqua aerobics class.
Nothing.
I talk a lot about living in the mystery.
Living in the mystery is living your life in such a way that you take the day as it comes. Instead of trying to figure out what God is up to, you wait instead. You wait for Him to show you what he wants you to do.
Often times this means we wait.
We wait for him to direct our actions.
Now I am not saying that we do nothing. I am not saying that at all.
We still live our life. We still go through the day being His hands and feet.
What I am saying is, “Don’t push God.”
Don’t try and push Him to give you something special to do, or say.
He will do this in His perfect timing.
It’s ok to say, “I’ve got nothing.”
It’s ok to wait.
Lord, I wait. I wait for You. I am doing my best to do Your will, not my will. Help me to do Your will. In the words of Isaiah, “Here am I Lord send me.” Father, I am only human. It is hard to wait, but I am waiting. Forgive my impatience, forgive my nagging. It is hard to wait. I love you Lord. Amen.
Blessings,
My Book
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
The cat’s in the cradle and a silver spoon
Good morning,
I pray the day is finding you well.
The cat’s in the cradle and a silver spoon.
I was contemplating my bike the other day. An old Cat Stevens song came to mind. As I sang the song in my head, the lyrics changed to:
My bike died just the other day.
It left the world in the usual way.
A Blown engine, too much to repair.
They sold the bike while I was away.
And the cat’s in the cradle and a silver spoon.
Little boy blue and the man in the moon.
When we going riding, I don’t know when.
But we’ll have a good time then, yea.
You know we’ll have a good time then.
As I hummed this to myself, I could not help but daydream of rides to come.
Then my mind came back to the original song by Cat Stevens. A song that is quite sad really.
You know the song is about a father who is so busy, consumed really, with the things that he thinks are important. Trivial things really, but all consuming to someone who lives their life worried about the future. Never realizing that what is right in front of them, in the moment, is what is truly important. The father recounts how the little boy would say; when I grow up, I want to be just like you. You can hear the pride in the father’s voice when he sings this. Then the little boy grows up and the father finds out that his son had grown up just like him, too busy for the father and he is left all alone, wanting the only thing that he cannot have; time with his son.
As I sat contemplating this, another visual came to mind. It was the movie “Hook.” In the scene Robin Williams, who plays a father consumed with climbing the ladder and making money is standing at the window. His wife has put his children to bed. His wife walks in and says, “Peter, you are not paying attention. Your children are growing up and you are missing it.”
My bike died the just other day.
It left the world in the usual way.
A Blown engine, too much to repair.
They sold the bike while I was away.
And the cat’s in the cradle and a silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man in the moon.
When we going riding, I don’t know when.
But we’ll have a good time then, yea.
You know we’ll have a good time then.
Brother Lawrence:
Brother Lawrence was a Carmelite monk in the 1600’s. He was not well schooled, and became a monk at an older age than most. In fact, the other monks thought him not up to the task of “high spirituality.” He had been relegated to kitchen duty. He would shop for the food, prepare the food, cleanup after the meals. He did this so that the other monks would not have to take their focus off their devotions.
As Brother Lawrence went through his day, he started practicing the presence of God. When he went to the market, he was buying food as if he was going to use it to feed God. When he prepared the meal, it was a meal for God. When he washed the dishes, he washed dishes for God.
The funny thing is, we do not study the other monks. We study “Practicing the Presence of God.” We study Brother Lawrence. The other monks who spent their time in the sanctuary, we do not know. Brother Lawrence, who spent much less time in the sanctuary, and much more time serving, we do know.
It is good to contemplate the things of God. It is good to daydream of Heaven and being in relationship with Him. Christ never meant for us to be so focused on Him that we let the world and those around us go to hell.
I know that Christ is focused on me; He is not standing with His back to me looking out a window, contemplating the future. He is not so consumed with the future that He says, “Not now.” when I want to talk with him.
Let us take Christ’s example and use it to shape our lives.
Lord, don’t let me become the father in, “The cat’s in the cradle.” Please remind me when I am not being present to the things you want me to be present too. Teach me not to be a monk, but Brother Lawrence. Put people in front of me Lord, so that they may get a glimpse of you, as I am in you and you are in me. Amen.
Blessings,
I pray the day is finding you well.
The cat’s in the cradle and a silver spoon.
I was contemplating my bike the other day. An old Cat Stevens song came to mind. As I sang the song in my head, the lyrics changed to:
My bike died just the other day.
It left the world in the usual way.
A Blown engine, too much to repair.
They sold the bike while I was away.
And the cat’s in the cradle and a silver spoon.
Little boy blue and the man in the moon.
When we going riding, I don’t know when.
But we’ll have a good time then, yea.
You know we’ll have a good time then.
As I hummed this to myself, I could not help but daydream of rides to come.
Then my mind came back to the original song by Cat Stevens. A song that is quite sad really.
You know the song is about a father who is so busy, consumed really, with the things that he thinks are important. Trivial things really, but all consuming to someone who lives their life worried about the future. Never realizing that what is right in front of them, in the moment, is what is truly important. The father recounts how the little boy would say; when I grow up, I want to be just like you. You can hear the pride in the father’s voice when he sings this. Then the little boy grows up and the father finds out that his son had grown up just like him, too busy for the father and he is left all alone, wanting the only thing that he cannot have; time with his son.
As I sat contemplating this, another visual came to mind. It was the movie “Hook.” In the scene Robin Williams, who plays a father consumed with climbing the ladder and making money is standing at the window. His wife has put his children to bed. His wife walks in and says, “Peter, you are not paying attention. Your children are growing up and you are missing it.”
My bike died the just other day.
It left the world in the usual way.
A Blown engine, too much to repair.
They sold the bike while I was away.
And the cat’s in the cradle and a silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man in the moon.
When we going riding, I don’t know when.
But we’ll have a good time then, yea.
You know we’ll have a good time then.
Brother Lawrence:
Brother Lawrence was a Carmelite monk in the 1600’s. He was not well schooled, and became a monk at an older age than most. In fact, the other monks thought him not up to the task of “high spirituality.” He had been relegated to kitchen duty. He would shop for the food, prepare the food, cleanup after the meals. He did this so that the other monks would not have to take their focus off their devotions.
As Brother Lawrence went through his day, he started practicing the presence of God. When he went to the market, he was buying food as if he was going to use it to feed God. When he prepared the meal, it was a meal for God. When he washed the dishes, he washed dishes for God.
The funny thing is, we do not study the other monks. We study “Practicing the Presence of God.” We study Brother Lawrence. The other monks who spent their time in the sanctuary, we do not know. Brother Lawrence, who spent much less time in the sanctuary, and much more time serving, we do know.
It is good to contemplate the things of God. It is good to daydream of Heaven and being in relationship with Him. Christ never meant for us to be so focused on Him that we let the world and those around us go to hell.
I know that Christ is focused on me; He is not standing with His back to me looking out a window, contemplating the future. He is not so consumed with the future that He says, “Not now.” when I want to talk with him.
Let us take Christ’s example and use it to shape our lives.
Lord, don’t let me become the father in, “The cat’s in the cradle.” Please remind me when I am not being present to the things you want me to be present too. Teach me not to be a monk, but Brother Lawrence. Put people in front of me Lord, so that they may get a glimpse of you, as I am in you and you are in me. Amen.
Blessings,
Monday, July 29, 2013
Have you ever had a nudge?
Good morning,
I pray the day is finding you well.
Have you ever had a nudge?
I got home from my trip to Duluth a few days ago. When I tell people that I used my vacation to go to Duluth people look at me kind of funny. I guess they look at me kind of funny anyway.
While I was on the ride Sandy, from Lone Wolf Harley, emailed me and asked if I could send the title to my bike. One of the technicians is going to buy the bike, as a project, and put it back together. I was on my ride and had not responded yet. I was going to simply mail them the title, with a note, and call it good.
Then I got a nudge.
As I sat there looking at the river behind my house a still small voice said, “Roger, I want you to call Lone Wolf Harley and check on them.”
I do not make a habit of calling Harley dealerships.
I definitely do not make a habit of calling Harley dealerships just to check on them.
I called.
I talked with Sandy.
I told Sandy that I was going to send her the title.
I thanked her once again for everything, how they helped me during a time of need.
She told me how they had never seen anyone respond to a problem they way that I did. How they talked about Chuck and I for days after we left. She talked about how we changed the way they look at things.
Then she said something I was not expecting to hear.
She said, “Can you talk to Sasha. One of her friends, an elderly gentleman, had a heart attack and is not expected to make it.” I told her, “Absolutely.” Sandy tried to find Sasha, but could not. Sandy took my cell number and said that she will give it to Sasha.
A few minutes later my phone rings. It is Sasha.
Sasha is in distress.
She is not doing well, and needs someone to listen.
I listen.
As she talks I can hear sniffling, Sasha is crying.
She tells me that he had come in to see her only a couple of days ago. How they had a nice conversation. How he left and she did not say, “I love you.” To him.
Sasha is chained to the “mirror of regret.”
“If only I knew.” Is what she said.
After a bit she became quiet.
I asked her if she wanted to hear a story?
She says, “Yes.”
I will share the story that I told Sasha. It goes like this:
Good Morning,
I pray that the day is finding you well.
We had a retirement party for a very good friend of mine, Ken V. and his wife Rachel. I was asked to M.C. the event.
I joined the Navy in 1983.
I was in navigator school down in Florida during the winter months of 1983. Coming from the high plains portion of the United States, I was not used to having 80+ degree weather in November. To me it was just plain hot. I never did get used to having my glasses fog over every time I walked outside. School was fun, and even though I had been to college, this was a very different environment and I missed my family. I would call home weekly just to hear their voices and to find out what was going on. I usually did this on Saturday evenings. Those were the days before cell phones; pay phones were the only option at the time. I had a choice, I either could line up a bunch of quarters on the little metal shelf in the phone booth, and every two minutes or so be interrupted by the operator, telling me to insert another $2.00, or call collect.
I opted to call collect.
One Saturday evening I called home, my grandfather answered. We called him Boppa. I do not know why we called him Boppa, we called our other grandfather Grampa. I never understand why we give things the names that we do, I try not to think about it, when I do think about it I end up with a headache. I do not like headaches, hence the “I try not to think about it” part.
Boppa was a cool grampa.
He taught me how to hunt.
He taught me how to weld; he was a welder by trade.
Boppa accepted my call after giving the operator a hard time about never hearing of anyone by the name of Roger. Me yelling into the phone, “Just accept the call.” Him keeping up the gag, and just when the operator is about to hang up, Boppa accepts the call. Boppa was quite the character and always told wonderful stories. Nobody else was home so Boppa and I had a great conversation. As the conversation started to wind down, Boppa told me that he was proud of me. I had an almost uncontrollable urge to tell him that I loved him, but I did not. We weren’t that kind of a family. The guys would tell the girls that they loved them and the girls in the family would tell the guys that they loved them, but the guys didn’t tell the guys that they loved each other, I could give a thousand conjectures why, but we just didn’t.
Boppa and I hung up the phone.
Two days later, I get a message from the Red Cross.
The message simple read, “Your grandfather, Boppa died.
Call home.
I have been fairly lucky in life. I do not have a lot of regrets. The one regret I do have is not telling Boppa that I loved him when I had the chance. I know that he knew that I love him; at least that is what I keep telling myself.
When I called home that day, my actions changed.
Not only did I tell my mother and sisters that I loved them, I told my father too.
I M.C.’d Ken and Rachel’s retirement celebration Sunday afternoon. As I talked, Boppa came to mind. I mentioned that so often we wait until it is too late to tell someone how much he or she means to us. How many times we let the moment pass without saying those words. I asked everyone to not let this moment pass without telling Ken and Rachel how much they love and appreciate them.
Ken and Rachel know that I appreciate and love them very much.
My family knows that I appreciate them and love them very much.
The people in my life know that I appreciate them and love them very much.
How important is it to know that a person is loved?
God tells us the following:
Better is open rebuke
than hidden love. (Proverbs 27:5)
It was the last lesson Boppa taught me.
After I told Sasha this story, she said thank you…sat quietly for a moment…then said, “Roger’ I love you.” I said, “I love you too Sasha.”
She thanked me for the call. She thanked me for listening. She is going through the grieving process. I told her she can call anytime, and talk, yell, cry, scream. I told her that I draw the line at hitting; you cannot hit the chaplain.
She laughed and said she would.
My prayer is that we do not miss any more opportunities to let those that we love how much they mean to us.
Blessings,
I pray the day is finding you well.
Have you ever had a nudge?
I got home from my trip to Duluth a few days ago. When I tell people that I used my vacation to go to Duluth people look at me kind of funny. I guess they look at me kind of funny anyway.
While I was on the ride Sandy, from Lone Wolf Harley, emailed me and asked if I could send the title to my bike. One of the technicians is going to buy the bike, as a project, and put it back together. I was on my ride and had not responded yet. I was going to simply mail them the title, with a note, and call it good.
Then I got a nudge.
As I sat there looking at the river behind my house a still small voice said, “Roger, I want you to call Lone Wolf Harley and check on them.”
I do not make a habit of calling Harley dealerships.
I definitely do not make a habit of calling Harley dealerships just to check on them.
I called.
I talked with Sandy.
I told Sandy that I was going to send her the title.
I thanked her once again for everything, how they helped me during a time of need.
She told me how they had never seen anyone respond to a problem they way that I did. How they talked about Chuck and I for days after we left. She talked about how we changed the way they look at things.
Then she said something I was not expecting to hear.
She said, “Can you talk to Sasha. One of her friends, an elderly gentleman, had a heart attack and is not expected to make it.” I told her, “Absolutely.” Sandy tried to find Sasha, but could not. Sandy took my cell number and said that she will give it to Sasha.
A few minutes later my phone rings. It is Sasha.
Sasha is in distress.
She is not doing well, and needs someone to listen.
I listen.
As she talks I can hear sniffling, Sasha is crying.
She tells me that he had come in to see her only a couple of days ago. How they had a nice conversation. How he left and she did not say, “I love you.” To him.
Sasha is chained to the “mirror of regret.”
“If only I knew.” Is what she said.
After a bit she became quiet.
I asked her if she wanted to hear a story?
She says, “Yes.”
I will share the story that I told Sasha. It goes like this:
Good Morning,
I pray that the day is finding you well.
We had a retirement party for a very good friend of mine, Ken V. and his wife Rachel. I was asked to M.C. the event.
I joined the Navy in 1983.
I was in navigator school down in Florida during the winter months of 1983. Coming from the high plains portion of the United States, I was not used to having 80+ degree weather in November. To me it was just plain hot. I never did get used to having my glasses fog over every time I walked outside. School was fun, and even though I had been to college, this was a very different environment and I missed my family. I would call home weekly just to hear their voices and to find out what was going on. I usually did this on Saturday evenings. Those were the days before cell phones; pay phones were the only option at the time. I had a choice, I either could line up a bunch of quarters on the little metal shelf in the phone booth, and every two minutes or so be interrupted by the operator, telling me to insert another $2.00, or call collect.
I opted to call collect.
One Saturday evening I called home, my grandfather answered. We called him Boppa. I do not know why we called him Boppa, we called our other grandfather Grampa. I never understand why we give things the names that we do, I try not to think about it, when I do think about it I end up with a headache. I do not like headaches, hence the “I try not to think about it” part.
Boppa was a cool grampa.
He taught me how to hunt.
He taught me how to weld; he was a welder by trade.
Boppa accepted my call after giving the operator a hard time about never hearing of anyone by the name of Roger. Me yelling into the phone, “Just accept the call.” Him keeping up the gag, and just when the operator is about to hang up, Boppa accepts the call. Boppa was quite the character and always told wonderful stories. Nobody else was home so Boppa and I had a great conversation. As the conversation started to wind down, Boppa told me that he was proud of me. I had an almost uncontrollable urge to tell him that I loved him, but I did not. We weren’t that kind of a family. The guys would tell the girls that they loved them and the girls in the family would tell the guys that they loved them, but the guys didn’t tell the guys that they loved each other, I could give a thousand conjectures why, but we just didn’t.
Boppa and I hung up the phone.
Two days later, I get a message from the Red Cross.
The message simple read, “Your grandfather, Boppa died.
Call home.
I have been fairly lucky in life. I do not have a lot of regrets. The one regret I do have is not telling Boppa that I loved him when I had the chance. I know that he knew that I love him; at least that is what I keep telling myself.
When I called home that day, my actions changed.
Not only did I tell my mother and sisters that I loved them, I told my father too.
I M.C.’d Ken and Rachel’s retirement celebration Sunday afternoon. As I talked, Boppa came to mind. I mentioned that so often we wait until it is too late to tell someone how much he or she means to us. How many times we let the moment pass without saying those words. I asked everyone to not let this moment pass without telling Ken and Rachel how much they love and appreciate them.
Ken and Rachel know that I appreciate and love them very much.
My family knows that I appreciate them and love them very much.
The people in my life know that I appreciate them and love them very much.
How important is it to know that a person is loved?
God tells us the following:
Better is open rebuke
than hidden love. (Proverbs 27:5)
It was the last lesson Boppa taught me.
After I told Sasha this story, she said thank you…sat quietly for a moment…then said, “Roger’ I love you.” I said, “I love you too Sasha.”
She thanked me for the call. She thanked me for listening. She is going through the grieving process. I told her she can call anytime, and talk, yell, cry, scream. I told her that I draw the line at hitting; you cannot hit the chaplain.
She laughed and said she would.
My prayer is that we do not miss any more opportunities to let those that we love how much they mean to us.
Blessings,
Saturday, July 27, 2013
God provides
Good morning,
I pray the day is finding you well.
I went to Holy Yoga yesterday.
Holy Yoga is a class at our YMCA. It is a class where you are led through a series of stretches and poses while at the same time the instructor reads scripture verses, prays for you, and gives you things of God to meditate on. It is held from noon to 1pm. The class is a wonderful way to reframe and refocus your day. Every class begins and ends in prayer.
As I sat on my mat holding a pose in yesterday's class I was meditating on the phrase, "God will provide."
The word provide comes from the Latin word "providēre" which literally means, "to see ahead". Pro meaning "forward" and vidēre "to see".
God will provide.
Many times, in our western sense of things, when we hear this this our minds go to monetary things. We hear, "God will provide" and we say to ourselves, "Is God going to give me a new house or is God going to give me a new car?" Maybe He will, maybe He won't.
I really don't think God is all that interested in cars.
I really don't think that God is all that interested in houses.
What I do think is that God is interested in you, in me, in us.
God does want the best for us.
Life is full of ups and downs.
Times of happiness and times of great sadness.
There will be times when we feel in control.
There will be times when we feel that life is too big and we have little or no control.
God will provide.
I was talking with a friend yesterday. During our conversation I said to her, "I have been living in the mystery so long that life would be boring without it."
As we talked we started recounting how God has been there for us in our lives to:
Provide comfort in times of need.
Provide people that would help us during times of distress.
God has used our painful times as a way to relate to people that are going are going through painful times themselves.
God provides people for us to minister to.
God provides opportunities to show people a glimpse of Him.
God provides.
My prayer this morning is, "Father, give me eyes to see what it is that you are providing. You know what I want you to provide. Not my will Father, but your will be done. Amen."
Laurie and I are going to a wedding today. I can't wait to see how God provides.
Blessings,
I pray the day is finding you well.
I went to Holy Yoga yesterday.
Holy Yoga is a class at our YMCA. It is a class where you are led through a series of stretches and poses while at the same time the instructor reads scripture verses, prays for you, and gives you things of God to meditate on. It is held from noon to 1pm. The class is a wonderful way to reframe and refocus your day. Every class begins and ends in prayer.
As I sat on my mat holding a pose in yesterday's class I was meditating on the phrase, "God will provide."
The word provide comes from the Latin word "providēre" which literally means, "to see ahead". Pro meaning "forward" and vidēre "to see".
God will provide.
Many times, in our western sense of things, when we hear this this our minds go to monetary things. We hear, "God will provide" and we say to ourselves, "Is God going to give me a new house or is God going to give me a new car?" Maybe He will, maybe He won't.
I really don't think God is all that interested in cars.
I really don't think that God is all that interested in houses.
What I do think is that God is interested in you, in me, in us.
God does want the best for us.
Life is full of ups and downs.
Times of happiness and times of great sadness.
There will be times when we feel in control.
There will be times when we feel that life is too big and we have little or no control.
God will provide.
I was talking with a friend yesterday. During our conversation I said to her, "I have been living in the mystery so long that life would be boring without it."
As we talked we started recounting how God has been there for us in our lives to:
Provide comfort in times of need.
Provide people that would help us during times of distress.
God has used our painful times as a way to relate to people that are going are going through painful times themselves.
God provides people for us to minister to.
God provides opportunities to show people a glimpse of Him.
God provides.
My prayer this morning is, "Father, give me eyes to see what it is that you are providing. You know what I want you to provide. Not my will Father, but your will be done. Amen."
Laurie and I are going to a wedding today. I can't wait to see how God provides.
Blessings,
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Home again
Good morning,
I pray the day is finding you well.
I'm back at the river lodge.
I arrived home yesterday afternoon. Chuck dropped me off. We unloaded my gear from the bike, and said our goodbyes. He headed home and I kissed my wife hello.
It is good to be home.
Chuck said, "It is good to get away, but great to come home. In the end we are both home buddies.
It was an amazing trip, filled with amazing things.
We had good days.
We had bad days.
We had great days.
We had a terrible day.
Looking back our trip really was a microcosm of life.
My bike blew up.
This could have been a flat tire experience. Instead God used it to bring a person to Christ. Someone else will be helped from the proceeds, and hopefully a group of people will look at life through a different lens. I will always have a soft spot in my heart for Lone Wolf Harley and the people there.
Thank you again Paul, Sasha, Sandy and especially Beth. Love you lots.
Riding two up on a bike has taught me many things. I learned what it is to be a second seater.
We rode through some of the most beautiful country we had ever seen.
We stayed in hotels. We stayed with family.
It was my pleasure to introduce Chuck to my family.
We saw a number of YMCA's. Our favorite was the Mankato YMCA, it truly is a special place.
I was able to see what my sister does, feeding those in need.
These were great days.
In Rapid City, Chuck needed a new tire. He had not expected to do this.
It was a bad day.
Christ used the down time, as we waited for Chuck's tire to be replaced He brought Charity into our lives. She now reads the Breads.
In Baker City, God brought me another very hurt person to talk with and show her a bit of Christ.
I am home now, and it feels great.
Laurie and I call our home the river lodge. It sits on the bank of a river nestled in the Cascade Range. In fact, as I was writing this two black tail deer came out of the woods and crossed the river right in front of me.
At our old house, before we moved to Washington from Oregon, we had a pond in our yard that looked like a river. It was the brainchild of our middle son Levi. We loved our pond. When we moved here Chuck said, "You built a river at your old house and loved it. God gave you one of His to love."
I like that.
I am home now.
I wonder what God has in store for me today.
May The Lord bless you, and keep you. May His face shine upon you always.
Blessings,
I pray the day is finding you well.
I'm back at the river lodge.
I arrived home yesterday afternoon. Chuck dropped me off. We unloaded my gear from the bike, and said our goodbyes. He headed home and I kissed my wife hello.
It is good to be home.
Chuck said, "It is good to get away, but great to come home. In the end we are both home buddies.
It was an amazing trip, filled with amazing things.
We had good days.
We had bad days.
We had great days.
We had a terrible day.
Looking back our trip really was a microcosm of life.
My bike blew up.
This could have been a flat tire experience. Instead God used it to bring a person to Christ. Someone else will be helped from the proceeds, and hopefully a group of people will look at life through a different lens. I will always have a soft spot in my heart for Lone Wolf Harley and the people there.
Thank you again Paul, Sasha, Sandy and especially Beth. Love you lots.
Riding two up on a bike has taught me many things. I learned what it is to be a second seater.
We rode through some of the most beautiful country we had ever seen.
We stayed in hotels. We stayed with family.
It was my pleasure to introduce Chuck to my family.
We saw a number of YMCA's. Our favorite was the Mankato YMCA, it truly is a special place.
I was able to see what my sister does, feeding those in need.
These were great days.
In Rapid City, Chuck needed a new tire. He had not expected to do this.
It was a bad day.
Christ used the down time, as we waited for Chuck's tire to be replaced He brought Charity into our lives. She now reads the Breads.
In Baker City, God brought me another very hurt person to talk with and show her a bit of Christ.
I am home now, and it feels great.
Laurie and I call our home the river lodge. It sits on the bank of a river nestled in the Cascade Range. In fact, as I was writing this two black tail deer came out of the woods and crossed the river right in front of me.
At our old house, before we moved to Washington from Oregon, we had a pond in our yard that looked like a river. It was the brainchild of our middle son Levi. We loved our pond. When we moved here Chuck said, "You built a river at your old house and loved it. God gave you one of His to love."
I like that.
I am home now.
I wonder what God has in store for me today.
May The Lord bless you, and keep you. May His face shine upon you always.
Blessings,
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Another day in the old west
Good morning,
I pray the day is finding you well.
Chuck and I are in Baker City, Oregon, almost home.
We left Burley, Idaho yesterday. It was a beautiful run through some of the hottest weather we had experienced. Since we had decided to do the run two-up, we had to really consolidate our things. This meant that I had to wear my leather jacket. There was no place to store it. The teeshirts that I packed for the trip were all long sleeve. Keeping the sun off my arms when riding all day keeps me from feeling poorly at the end of the day. So I have been riding in the backseat wearing a long-sleeve teeshirt and a leather jacket.
We rolled into Baker City, an old mining town (gold was king a hundred years ago), and checked into the hotel. Our rooms were not ready yet. We had forgotten that we gained an hour from Idaho to Oregon and arrived an hour earlier than we anticipated.
I was rung out. I was vastly overheated. I needed water.
The only place open was the lounge.
Chuck and I sauntered into the bar. Country music filled the air. A song about a girl dancing on top of a green tractor hit my ears. I am glad we will be home soon. I miss my wife.
Chuck and I bellied up to the bar (I am picking up on the country lingo in Baker City).
Kate, the barkeep, said, "howdy boys, what will it be?"
This is when my sophistication shines.
I screamed, " Water! Give me water."
My mind went to thoughts of the movie "Wild Hogs."
Kate just looked at me.
I said again, "Bring me water, and keep it coming!" (Since I was in an Old-West town, I added, "And bring a water to everyone in the bar...on me!")
There were only two other old greasers in the bar. They didn't even have the courtesy to say, "Thanks long rider."
So much for western hospitality.
Chuck and I sat there sipping our water. We had already had guzzled four glasses, which evoked Kate, the barkeep, to say, "Slow'r on down there, cowboy, or you're going to find trouble in this here town."
We were sitting there when the saloon girl (a saloon girl is a waitress in an Old-West town...any old western movie will tell you that!) came up to Kate and said, "I have to go home, I can't take it anymore."
The girl looked distraught. Kate looked worried.
They looked in my direction.
I summoned the saloon girl.
She walked over.
I pulled up one of my Breads on my iPhone and asked her to read it.
She sat down, read the Bread, then paused, staring forward.
After a minute she said, "Can we talk?"
I say, "Okay." Let's call her Jeannie.
We went to a table and she sat down in a chair.
Anyone who has experienced sitting in a chair talking with me knows what is about to happen.
I sat and listened to Jeannie. She is a young girl deeply troubled.
After listening to Jeannie tell me her story I said, "Jeannie, usually I have more time to work with someone. Our time is short so with your permission I will be a bit blunt."
Jeannie said, "Okay."
I went right to the heart of her "flat tire experience."
She began to cry.
Over the next several minutes, I gave her tools to fix her flat tire.
Kate, a good friend to Jeannie, sat at a nearby table, not really trusting this water guzzling cowboy.
After Jeannie left, Kate came up to me and said, "That was amazing. I have never seen anything like that before. Thank you for helping."
I told Kate, "I don't know how much help I was. I just tried to give her some tools to help her cope.
God is funny. He doesn't care if you are on vacation or not.
A friend once said you cannot fire pastors. You can quit paying them, but you can't stop them from doing their job. I guess God knows that I feel retired. Since I am retired, every day is a vacation.
My prayer everyday is that He puts people in front of me so that I can give them a little glimpse of Him and His love for us.
God did not care that I was thirsty, tired, and weary.
I am reminded of something John tells us:
"Now when Jesus learned that the Pharisees had heard that Jesus was making and baptizing more disciples than John (although Jesus himself did not baptize, but only his disciples), he left Judea and departed again for Galilee. So he came to a town of Samaria called Sychar, near the field that Jacob had given to his son Joseph. Jacob’s well was there; so Jesus, wearied as he was from his journey, was sitting beside the well. It was about the sixth hour. A woman from Samaria came to draw water. Jesus said to her, 'Give me a drink.' (For his disciples had gone away into the city to buy food.) The Samaritan woman said to him, 'How is it that you, a Jew, ask for a drink from me, a woman of Samaria?' (For Jews have no dealings with Samaritans.) Jesus answered her, 'If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, "Give me a drink," you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.' The woman said to him, 'Sir, you have nothing to draw water with, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water? Are you greater than our father Jacob? He gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did his sons and his livestock.' Jesus said to her, 'Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.' The woman said to him, 'Sir, give me this water, so that I will not be thirsty or have to come here to draw water'” (John 4:1-3, 5-15 ESV).
Jesus is the great teacher, healer, He is God incarnate.
If I am to be the hands and feet of Christ, I must be ready for any circumstance that comes my way.
Blessings
I pray the day is finding you well.
Chuck and I are in Baker City, Oregon, almost home.
We left Burley, Idaho yesterday. It was a beautiful run through some of the hottest weather we had experienced. Since we had decided to do the run two-up, we had to really consolidate our things. This meant that I had to wear my leather jacket. There was no place to store it. The teeshirts that I packed for the trip were all long sleeve. Keeping the sun off my arms when riding all day keeps me from feeling poorly at the end of the day. So I have been riding in the backseat wearing a long-sleeve teeshirt and a leather jacket.
We rolled into Baker City, an old mining town (gold was king a hundred years ago), and checked into the hotel. Our rooms were not ready yet. We had forgotten that we gained an hour from Idaho to Oregon and arrived an hour earlier than we anticipated.
I was rung out. I was vastly overheated. I needed water.
The only place open was the lounge.
Chuck and I sauntered into the bar. Country music filled the air. A song about a girl dancing on top of a green tractor hit my ears. I am glad we will be home soon. I miss my wife.
Chuck and I bellied up to the bar (I am picking up on the country lingo in Baker City).
Kate, the barkeep, said, "howdy boys, what will it be?"
This is when my sophistication shines.
I screamed, " Water! Give me water."
My mind went to thoughts of the movie "Wild Hogs."
Kate just looked at me.
I said again, "Bring me water, and keep it coming!" (Since I was in an Old-West town, I added, "And bring a water to everyone in the bar...on me!")
There were only two other old greasers in the bar. They didn't even have the courtesy to say, "Thanks long rider."
So much for western hospitality.
Chuck and I sat there sipping our water. We had already had guzzled four glasses, which evoked Kate, the barkeep, to say, "Slow'r on down there, cowboy, or you're going to find trouble in this here town."
We were sitting there when the saloon girl (a saloon girl is a waitress in an Old-West town...any old western movie will tell you that!) came up to Kate and said, "I have to go home, I can't take it anymore."
The girl looked distraught. Kate looked worried.
They looked in my direction.
I summoned the saloon girl.
She walked over.
I pulled up one of my Breads on my iPhone and asked her to read it.
She sat down, read the Bread, then paused, staring forward.
After a minute she said, "Can we talk?"
I say, "Okay." Let's call her Jeannie.
We went to a table and she sat down in a chair.
Anyone who has experienced sitting in a chair talking with me knows what is about to happen.
I sat and listened to Jeannie. She is a young girl deeply troubled.
After listening to Jeannie tell me her story I said, "Jeannie, usually I have more time to work with someone. Our time is short so with your permission I will be a bit blunt."
Jeannie said, "Okay."
I went right to the heart of her "flat tire experience."
She began to cry.
Over the next several minutes, I gave her tools to fix her flat tire.
Kate, a good friend to Jeannie, sat at a nearby table, not really trusting this water guzzling cowboy.
After Jeannie left, Kate came up to me and said, "That was amazing. I have never seen anything like that before. Thank you for helping."
I told Kate, "I don't know how much help I was. I just tried to give her some tools to help her cope.
God is funny. He doesn't care if you are on vacation or not.
A friend once said you cannot fire pastors. You can quit paying them, but you can't stop them from doing their job. I guess God knows that I feel retired. Since I am retired, every day is a vacation.
My prayer everyday is that He puts people in front of me so that I can give them a little glimpse of Him and His love for us.
God did not care that I was thirsty, tired, and weary.
I am reminded of something John tells us:
"Now when Jesus learned that the Pharisees had heard that Jesus was making and baptizing more disciples than John (although Jesus himself did not baptize, but only his disciples), he left Judea and departed again for Galilee. So he came to a town of Samaria called Sychar, near the field that Jacob had given to his son Joseph. Jacob’s well was there; so Jesus, wearied as he was from his journey, was sitting beside the well. It was about the sixth hour. A woman from Samaria came to draw water. Jesus said to her, 'Give me a drink.' (For his disciples had gone away into the city to buy food.) The Samaritan woman said to him, 'How is it that you, a Jew, ask for a drink from me, a woman of Samaria?' (For Jews have no dealings with Samaritans.) Jesus answered her, 'If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, "Give me a drink," you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.' The woman said to him, 'Sir, you have nothing to draw water with, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water? Are you greater than our father Jacob? He gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did his sons and his livestock.' Jesus said to her, 'Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.' The woman said to him, 'Sir, give me this water, so that I will not be thirsty or have to come here to draw water'” (John 4:1-3, 5-15 ESV).
Jesus is the great teacher, healer, He is God incarnate.
If I am to be the hands and feet of Christ, I must be ready for any circumstance that comes my way.
Blessings
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Hurt people, hurt people
Good morning,
I pray the day is finding you well.
Hurt people, hurt people.
We spent the night in Buffalo, Wyoming two nights ago.
We spent last night in Rock Springs, Wyoming.
We left Buffalo and entered the Big Horn mountain range. If you have never seen the Big Horn mountains you must add them to your bucket list. They are some of the most beautiful mountains I have ever seen.
Coming out of the Big Horns we entered a town named Worland. There is nothing spectacular about Worland, but Worland did remind me of someone I knew in college.
I remember my first day playing college football. The head coach sat all us freshman down and said, "I have a wife and three daughters. If I don't produce, I'm gone. If you don't produce you're gone. I will tell you when you are tired. I will tell you when you are sick. I will tell you when you are hurt. Don't worry about going to the book store to get your books. We have people doing that for you. Here is your class schedule and your football schedule." My immediate thought was, "I should have been having more fun in high school. This is a job." I did not know at the time just how accurate that thought was.
I played half a season on a broken ankle. They just taped it up into a cast.
I dislocated my shoulder. They taped that up as well.
One game, right before half time, three seconds left in the half, the other team threw a bomb. I intercepted it in the end zone. This presented a dilemma. I could either run it back for a touchdown or kneel down and get a stat. I choose to run it back.
The field opened up before me. At the 50-yard line a hole opened up. I ran into the hole flat out. Just then the other team's center filled the hole. We hit like two bighorn sheep. The kinetic energy was enormous. The impact did a lot of things that I did not notice at first. What I did notice was that it sent me flying through the air with the greatest of ease. As I was flying through the air I kept my head up still looking for the end zone. I landed on my feet, my body still going forward, I put my left hand on the ground to maintain my balance. Just as I did this I got hit on the elbow, which at that particular time was locked.
My elbow dislocated.
I went to the ground.
I got a stat.
I started to notice other unforeseen implications from the impact. Water-packed helmets had just come out and I was wearing one. The force of the collision broke the water pack and the hard plastic came down and broke my nose at the bridge. The combination of my head wound and the water made me look like I had ruptured an artery.
Blood was everywhere.
The impact also broke the rivets on my shoulder pads and the tie string that secures the pads to my chest.
I stood up.
My parents were at the game and they thought I was dead. I looked like I was bleeding out, both shoulders looked dislocated (they weren't), my elbow was going off in the wrong direction.
I was a mess.
During halftime the equipment people and the trainers went to work on me like a NASCAR pit crew. The equipment people fixed my gear. The trainers fixed my nose and relocated my elbow. They taped me up. Put an elbow brace on me and pronounced me ready to go for the second half. The secondary coach came up to me and said. "Put your arms above your head." I did. One arm was touching my helmet because of the brace. The other arm was where it should have been. The coach said, "Can you intercept a pass this way?" I said, "No." Then he told the trainers to take it off. You should have seen the look on my parents faces when I started the second half.
Even this did not stop me from playing football.
A few games later we were playing a team that had an all-American wide receiver. I was put one-on-one with him. By the end of the third quarter he had no receptions and we were winning 14-7. At the twelve minute mark of the 4th quarter I was speared. The player got up saying, "I got him, coach, I got him!" He was kicked out of the game. I spent the next week in the hospital. The receiver went on to catch four touchdown passes in 12-minutes and they won the game. I guess strategically for them it was a good play.
That ended my career.
The doctors told me if I took one more hit like that at best I would have one kidney, at worst I would be on dialysis the rest of my life.
And my life changed.
Even after the doctors told this bit of news I was cleared to play again for the next season,
My last game was the alumni game that spring. I had the opportunity to intercept a pass, instead I simply took out the receiver. That is when I knew I was done.
That fall Oklahoma State called. They heard I wasn't playing and they needed a free safety and wanted to know if I was interested?
I cordially declined.
People were upset that I did not take them up on their offer. When Wyoming called I relented to the pressure.
I knew I couldn't play but went anyway.
This is where I met the girl from Worland.
She was a great person.
I was a butt.
She would ask me, "Do you love me?" I would say, "No." I just could not go there. After a while she got tired of me. She got tired of being treated badly. She deserved better. She deserved the best and that was not me.
After she broke up with me she would watch me from a distance. I would catch glimpses of her just standing there looking at me.
She would have a sad look on her face.
I was a mess. I hurt this person and I am sorry for doing so.
After my great healing I think about her from time to time and when I do I pray, "Father, my prayer is that her life is better than she could have ever imagined. That she is happy and whole and strong."
I want to tell her that I am sorry. Perhaps I'll get the chance some day.
Hurt people hurt people.
Jesus heals people...and healed people heal people.
I pray my healing will continue to bring healing to others.
I pray the same for you.
"All praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is our merciful Father and the source of all comfort. He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us" (2 Corinthians 1:3, 4, NLT).
Blessings,
I pray the day is finding you well.
Hurt people, hurt people.
We spent the night in Buffalo, Wyoming two nights ago.
We spent last night in Rock Springs, Wyoming.
We left Buffalo and entered the Big Horn mountain range. If you have never seen the Big Horn mountains you must add them to your bucket list. They are some of the most beautiful mountains I have ever seen.
Coming out of the Big Horns we entered a town named Worland. There is nothing spectacular about Worland, but Worland did remind me of someone I knew in college.
I remember my first day playing college football. The head coach sat all us freshman down and said, "I have a wife and three daughters. If I don't produce, I'm gone. If you don't produce you're gone. I will tell you when you are tired. I will tell you when you are sick. I will tell you when you are hurt. Don't worry about going to the book store to get your books. We have people doing that for you. Here is your class schedule and your football schedule." My immediate thought was, "I should have been having more fun in high school. This is a job." I did not know at the time just how accurate that thought was.
I played half a season on a broken ankle. They just taped it up into a cast.
I dislocated my shoulder. They taped that up as well.
One game, right before half time, three seconds left in the half, the other team threw a bomb. I intercepted it in the end zone. This presented a dilemma. I could either run it back for a touchdown or kneel down and get a stat. I choose to run it back.
The field opened up before me. At the 50-yard line a hole opened up. I ran into the hole flat out. Just then the other team's center filled the hole. We hit like two bighorn sheep. The kinetic energy was enormous. The impact did a lot of things that I did not notice at first. What I did notice was that it sent me flying through the air with the greatest of ease. As I was flying through the air I kept my head up still looking for the end zone. I landed on my feet, my body still going forward, I put my left hand on the ground to maintain my balance. Just as I did this I got hit on the elbow, which at that particular time was locked.
My elbow dislocated.
I went to the ground.
I got a stat.
I started to notice other unforeseen implications from the impact. Water-packed helmets had just come out and I was wearing one. The force of the collision broke the water pack and the hard plastic came down and broke my nose at the bridge. The combination of my head wound and the water made me look like I had ruptured an artery.
Blood was everywhere.
The impact also broke the rivets on my shoulder pads and the tie string that secures the pads to my chest.
I stood up.
My parents were at the game and they thought I was dead. I looked like I was bleeding out, both shoulders looked dislocated (they weren't), my elbow was going off in the wrong direction.
I was a mess.
During halftime the equipment people and the trainers went to work on me like a NASCAR pit crew. The equipment people fixed my gear. The trainers fixed my nose and relocated my elbow. They taped me up. Put an elbow brace on me and pronounced me ready to go for the second half. The secondary coach came up to me and said. "Put your arms above your head." I did. One arm was touching my helmet because of the brace. The other arm was where it should have been. The coach said, "Can you intercept a pass this way?" I said, "No." Then he told the trainers to take it off. You should have seen the look on my parents faces when I started the second half.
Even this did not stop me from playing football.
A few games later we were playing a team that had an all-American wide receiver. I was put one-on-one with him. By the end of the third quarter he had no receptions and we were winning 14-7. At the twelve minute mark of the 4th quarter I was speared. The player got up saying, "I got him, coach, I got him!" He was kicked out of the game. I spent the next week in the hospital. The receiver went on to catch four touchdown passes in 12-minutes and they won the game. I guess strategically for them it was a good play.
That ended my career.
The doctors told me if I took one more hit like that at best I would have one kidney, at worst I would be on dialysis the rest of my life.
And my life changed.
Even after the doctors told this bit of news I was cleared to play again for the next season,
My last game was the alumni game that spring. I had the opportunity to intercept a pass, instead I simply took out the receiver. That is when I knew I was done.
That fall Oklahoma State called. They heard I wasn't playing and they needed a free safety and wanted to know if I was interested?
I cordially declined.
People were upset that I did not take them up on their offer. When Wyoming called I relented to the pressure.
I knew I couldn't play but went anyway.
This is where I met the girl from Worland.
She was a great person.
I was a butt.
She would ask me, "Do you love me?" I would say, "No." I just could not go there. After a while she got tired of me. She got tired of being treated badly. She deserved better. She deserved the best and that was not me.
After she broke up with me she would watch me from a distance. I would catch glimpses of her just standing there looking at me.
She would have a sad look on her face.
I was a mess. I hurt this person and I am sorry for doing so.
After my great healing I think about her from time to time and when I do I pray, "Father, my prayer is that her life is better than she could have ever imagined. That she is happy and whole and strong."
I want to tell her that I am sorry. Perhaps I'll get the chance some day.
Hurt people hurt people.
Jesus heals people...and healed people heal people.
I pray my healing will continue to bring healing to others.
I pray the same for you.
"All praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is our merciful Father and the source of all comfort. He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us" (2 Corinthians 1:3, 4, NLT).
Blessings,
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