Failure as a good thing, The “Look”, Truth and Hope

I have lived long enough and worked enough different jobs, to have been tested on many things. At my current job, we are tested at least quarterly over different aspects of our job. Unlike educational testing, where it is a one shot chance, we are allowed to repeat the test if needed. That is more like every day life. The driving test, for instance. If you fail, you can study, practice more and then repeat the test until you pass.


So I have adopted the philosophy, at least since college, that if I am faced with a lot of new information over which I am to be tested, that I will prepare as best I can and take the test, whether it is a written, oral, or performance test. If I fail, it will at least expose me to the information I need to study for a passing grade and allow me to see how the test is written or presented. In those cases, failure is not a bad thing. It is actually a good thing. It is almost always a good thing to just try rather than let a fear of failure keep you from trying. (Remember I am talking about challenges, improvements, growth, not temptations.)

Many times a failure has allowed me to improve my skills significantly. Let’s face it, in real life, each new challenge does not always produce a positive outcome; exposure to new tasks does not always result in resounding victories. But when you try, you grow. When you do not try, you stagnate.

One of my unmarried daughters really wants to have children. She knows that is pretty difficult to do within our moral framework. So I keep asking if there are any prospective gentlemen she is interested in. Earlier this week when I asked again, she hesitated and led me to believe there might be but she was unsure if they were interested in her. I asked if she had given them “the look”. She giggled and said she had no idea what I was talking about. She is female, so I know the information is embedded into her genetic code, but she is not very outgoing, so there may be some special sequence of events that have to transpire before the code is activated.

I know what “the look” is, but I do not know how to explain it to her. I told her that her mother would have to teach her; her look certainly worked on me. And I am hesitant to experiment with that certain body language since I am happily attached and do not want to start any problems. But I am sure she has watched enough movies that it will come to her at the right moment. I have discouraged her from using the “Bend and snap” since it may be a little too much for a Bible College campus.

This is one of those situations where hope needs to be founded on truth. The truth is that my daughters are remarkable women. Two of the five are married and two of the remaining unmarried daughters are “attached” – at least for now. I do not seek to give my daughter any false hope. When the man God has for her finally finds her, he will only begin to realize how remarkable she is. I have been married for almost 28 years and I realize every day what a wonderful woman I have married.

(My children know their mother and have asked how it is that I keep saying only good things about her. I tell them, I see what I choose to see. The reality is most of what I see is good - when I keep the proper perspective. I know my wife and when she acts “out of character” I know something is wrong. I find out what is wrong and, if I can, I fix it rather than get mad and add to the problem.)

Several years ago, when my eldest daughter was looking at the young man who is now her husband, I advised her to see the individual only for what he was, honestly – nothing more, and nothing less. At the ripe old age of twenty he was not going to represent the “finished product”, what she should rather be looking for is the “raw materials” like his character, his choice of friends, his interaction with other young ladies, and his work ethic, to name a few. I can say this with some confidence because I look back and realize that I only began to mature, really mature, around the age of thirty and I have seen the same in many other young men.

Hopefully, her young man will find her soon. I have been praying for him since my daughter was very young. I predict that he will be pleasantly surprised.

Dangerous Hunt, Video Games in General

A friend told me of a Wii game called, “Dangerous Hunt” in which you are virtually hunting one or another dangerous animal. When he hooked it up to his surround sound, he said the sound was eerily real. In one hunt he was deftly stalking his quarry when the game alerted him to the presence of a dangerous animal in his immediate area. His daughters were riveted to the screen – a 60” high def screen.


He employed his navy training and set himself to “attack mode” explaining to his girls and his wife, who had now joined him, the careful reasoning behind his every move. With a deafening roar a tiger leapt onto the screen, fangs bared and claws extended for the kill. It was over in a second. Good thing it is virtual. He will live to hunt another “game”. But as he turned to see the expressions of his girls and his wife, he discovered no one was there.

Only then did he realize they had all run out of the room as his avatar was brutally slain. He quickly paused the game and went to find them. They girls were cowering on their mother’s lap. His wife, their mother was mad – obviously at him. He only realized why when she explained, “They were doing fine until you screamed!”

My children know that I am not fond of video games. I never have been. I used to find it difficult to verbalize my dislike, but not any more. I have a problem with anything that allows any individual to isolate themselves from others with the ability to change the outcome of a virtual world with the punch of a button. I dislike the exorbitant amount of time, emotional distraction, and absence of reality that motivates many people to play with an addictive focus.

If such energy, such focus, such perseverance were applied to life in the real world, success would be “virtually” guaranteed, unfortunately, it is more fun to start over and see if the outcome improves. Video games offer an easy way to measure “success” at something that yields little or no positive outcomes in relationships, employment, education, or home life - children with parents, or spouse with spouse.

Maybe that is why the Wii was such a hit. At least it promotes interaction with more than a digital display as two or more players compete through the game.

I enjoy people more when there is no reason to compete with each other. Life is more fun when the focus is on the needs of others rather that the vanquishing of others. For me, winning means someone has to lose. I like “win-win “situations so I am not much for playing games – especially video games.

I am an old fuddy-duddy. I still like to send and receive letters, I like to talk in person rather than texting or phone chatter. I realize I am “behind the times” but at the pace technology is changing, I will never catch up anyway.

Skinny jeans – almost, Who you spend time with, Making up the difference

I have recently lost weight so I understood when a co-worker was very excited about being able to fit into a pair of jeans he had not been able to wear for a couple years. He was made even more proud by the fact that he had lost the weight while quitting smoking. You have to admit there is a certain level of accomplishment to doing those two activities concurrently.


So we were all congratulating him on his success while he rolled a chair over to sit with us. As he sat down the jeans ripped all the way up the back from the right hip pocket to the belt line. They were older jeans after all.

I have worked shift work for over twenty years. Most of the shifts have been twelve-hour rotating shifts. During the longer stretches of consecutive shifts, I am able to spend very little time with my wife and kids, let alone anyone else. I go to work, work my twelve, and then go home to sleep, only to get up the next day and repeat the process. I spend the majority of my time with the people I share the shift with.

I am not complaining. I like the guys I work with, but I love my wife and kids. So when I am off, I try not to fill the time with things I have to do, but rather with things my wife and kids need to have done. I rarely do things by myself when I am off. I use every excuse to be with my wife – which she actually appreciates – whether it is grocery shopping, running to the Post Office, or any number of errands, we go together.

I try to postpone things I need to do until later in the evening, after other things are done, or during her nap time.

I will not always be working shift work. I will not always be gone so much. I will not always be this busy or preoccupied. When I am home more, I do not want to be a stranger in my own home. I do not want to retire to a family that is secondary to the “family” I have at work. I have seen that happen too often in my line of work.

My employment is my avocation. My life outside of my employment is my vocation. There is every expectation that employment can change, sometime unexpectedly. My wife and kids will be with me through that change. Even friends will change as life decisions move us from one job to another, or geographically, as we move from one area to another.

My best friend, my wife, will be with me. I know the depth of her commitment. I just want to make sure it is something fun for her rather than an all-out test of that commitment.

Enjoy your companions at work, it is only practical, but live for those who will be with you long past this transient portion of your life.

Singing, Music, Pumping gas

Sunday night was supposed to be “Concert under the Stars” at Somerset Bible Baptist Church, but the stars were nowhere to be seen. In fact, we haven’t seen the stars for several nights because of the constant rain. So the concert was moved inside. It was still great. Seventeen specials through the course of the night were sung by a variety of groups and individuals, nothing professional, just us regular folks.


It reminded me of church when I was growing up. Ours was a singing church. I believe that by the time I was ten years old I had at least one hundred hymns and other church songs memorized. When I got saved I knew way more music than scripture. And the hundreds of songs still alive in my memory are as precious to me as the hundreds of scriptures I have memorized.

Many times I will wake with the tune of an old hymn going through my mind. Jesus Saves, Nothing but the Blood, Amazing Grace, etc, as well as many of the forgotten hymns now long purged from the more recent prints of our hymnals. It reminded me once again how powerful an influence music has on all our lives.

We have lost more than one generation of church youth to the empty, rebellious music of the world. And from personal experience with my friends and children, it is difficult to win them away from the distractive beat of the worldly drums. Not all of it is bad, per se, but enough of it is, that it is better to infuse your home with uplifting, encouraging Christian music. How much better to get one of these tunes stuck in your head?

On another note, a co-worker went to Las Vegas on vacation recently. While there he rented a car to drive to the Grand Canyon. The car was a brand new Mustang. He was King of the Road, until the car needed to be filled with gas. When he finally found a gas station – and that can be a chore in that particular area – he realized he had no idea how to fill it up.

Here in New Jersey, state law requires that only an attendant can pump gas, so there really are people who have NEVER filled up their own vehicle, let alone a rental. So my friend approached the clerk at this very out-of-the-way filling station and admitted that he had no idea how to fill the gas tank.

Some local kids overheard the conversation between him and the clerk, who, by the way, was not going to help, and followed him out to the car to see the show. Between the sketchy instructions of the clerk and the helpful encouragement of the kids he got the pump set and ready only to discover he had no idea how to open the gas tank cover.

Everyone available looked in the car for a release, beside the door, in the glove box, in the console, etc. Several minutes later my friend was too frustrated to be embarrassed in front of the crowd of well-meaning helpers and was about to give up when another man, who had been getting quite a laugh out of the whole circus walked over and gentle pushed in against the tank cover. It snapped open immediately! And just as quickly my friend’s embarrassment returned. He filled the car with gas, got in and drove away without looking back.

His wife cheerily told him everybody was waving

Thunderstorms, trash or treasure, perspective

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Thunderstorms are on the way. I loved to sit outside on our patio during a thunderstorm. I can no longer do that, but I still love to hear the thunder and rain on the roof. Even that's kind of attenuated since I am now on the bottom level of a three-story apartment building. But the storms have not changed, nor has my awe of them.

At work I have a totally different perspective. Lightning spells trouble for us. Although there have been serious improvements made, we still get a thrill when lightening strikes our part of the plant. That is thunder like I have not heard anywhere else since we are directly below the strike point.

I suppose it is the trash-or-treasure idea played out in a different way. I often imagine, during difficult times, for instance, a drought, someone else is wishing for the very thing we already have too much of. Something like a micro view of real life.

How often we are dissatisfied with what we have, either in our direct possession, or what we have access to, work, church, shopping, schools, etc. There always seems like there should be a better, more profitable, easier, more satisfying way. Generally speaking, there is no easy way.

Like I have told my children from time to time when they would get angry. You have to get glad in the same pants you got mad in. Adjusting our attitude will, more often than not, change the perspective if not actually change the circumstances. Since we have little control over the circumstances, we need to concentrate on what we can control – our attitude, our reactions, our words.

I remember a preacher telling the story of an old woman who was a terrible gossip. After accepting the Lord and His forgiveness, she went to the pastor to see if there were away she could make amends for the words she had falsely spoken. He wisely took the penitent woman outside and shook the contents of a feather pillow into the wind. He then instructed the woman to retrieve every feather. A task just impossible, he explained, as making right things set wrong by her gossip.

Some things need to be said, but all things that need to be said can be said carefully. There are things we need to have, but what we do not now have, we can probably live without. Maybe it is time to stop withing for a better life and start living to the fullest the one we now have.

It is not easy, but I bet it would be worth it. I am going to enjoy the storm.

Emergency rooms, walk-a-thons, speaking out

As much time as I spent in hospitals (working) when I was younger, I do not rush to spend time there that I do not have to. Yesterday we had to take my wife to the emergency room. After a visit to our primary care physician, we were urged to go immediately. She, my wife, does not have a good medical history and that coupled with the chest discomfort she was feeling alarmed the doctor.

I was not overly worried because I live very close to this particular woman, but a doctor is better informed than I am in many cases. It turned out to be muscular pain on the surface of the chest rather than a cardiac issue, but it was nice to get that reassurance from a cardiac professional. It was not a totally un-fun three hours since we met some great people.

There will be some follow up with the cardiologist for a stress test and evaluation of the lab work and x-rays done during our time there, but the greater follow up will be done in our home. It is time to do what we know she should have been doing for the last few years.

It is amazing how consciously we will neglect our health needs thinking that the rules do not apply to us. With health issues in the family as severe as they express themselves in my wife's family, it is a change that is long overdue. I know better but I have not said anything to her because I know she knows. I am not able to make the choice for her any more than I am able to make her choose to do right. So, I am glad the warning was gentle. We have a lot of weddings to plan and a lot of grandkids yet to meet.

In celebration of the good report, we participated in the walk-a-thon sponsored by the church school. We did not walk the entire ten miles. We sat at a check point and made sure the kids were okay as the miles stretched on. It was okay, but there were a lot of lonely intervals as the kids made the round trip from check point to check point. It was a day with my wife and some of our church friends, so it was a pretty good morning.

Having said that, we were a little disappointed that no one who had volunteered to relieve us at the half-way point would follow through on the commitment. My wife and I were perturbed but we did not say anything except to each other. It struck me that we do not very often speak out on our behalf. We love the people who told us “No” when we asked for relief. As little as it bothered them to tell us no, it would have bothered us to say that to them if the shoe was on the other foot.

The funny thing is that these very people would have come and asked us to swap with them in the same situation, knowing that we would not say “No”. We will still be there for them when they need us. We are still “others” focused and always will be.

We, my wife and I, will be there to be taken advantage of for years to come, thank God, and I am certain there will be individuals who will find us when they need us.

Independence, Boundaries, Doing your best vs. giving the best

My wife insists on keeping around a very young child. We have always had one or more under foot. I have to admit it has almost always been a pleasure and she has left the mark of both her passion and compassion on a number of “little ones” who are now growing up without her. Some of these we have lost touch with, others we never will.




But as we have been out recently with the little one now most often with us, I have been more acutely aware of the independence needed by each and every one of those whom we have watched for any length of time. At less than two years of age, such independence has to be balanced against very strong and well-defined boundaries. How those boundaries are established and enforced makes a huge difference in the emotional atmosphere in which the child develops.



My wife is great at this, but if you asked her to explain it she would never be able to put it into words. It is not her understanding that makes children flock to her, it is her insight. She has the ability to “draw the line”; often much further out than I would, but it works and children love to do things with her.



Today at a local mall, she sent me and the little one to ride the train. I was not enthused, but acted as though I was. As we paid, I was told that I had to ride with her in the (very little) train as is sped around – NOT – in its twelve foot circle.



Of course, she chose the smallest of all the cars, the engine. It was made even more impossibly uncomfortable be the fact that it was semi-enclosed and made to seat two children. In case you have not figured out, I am not a child. I am not large, but I am not that small either. I believe none of my seven children could have fit much better than I did. I haven’t seen a picture turn up on face book yet, but I live in dread of that moment.



I am convinced it was a sadistic moment for the older lady conducting the ride to make me join in. Her evil delight must have been piqued by the fact that my little charge began crying as soon as the train started to move. The baby really thought we were leaving my wife behind (An unbearable thought for her.) and every turn of the circle made her believe it more – so she cried more.



But movement to her meant distance and distance meant separation from my wife and separation from my wife was more than she could stand, so the tears flowed freely until I walked her back into the store thirty feet away and she saw that she was still close to her security. I had exceeded the boundaries in her little mind and she did not like it.



We never were able to give much to our children in the way of possessions, gifts, things of value in the world’s eyes. We gave them what we could with travel, vacations, a safe home and a world view that takes the needs of others into account as either above or equal to our own. Rather than giving the best to them, we did our best for them. Rather than letting them live their life as they chose, we shared our lives with them.



For our little ones, as well as our children, boundaries have grown as their independence has grown. All in all, they are doing quite well. But I know that each one of them is jealous of me, because no matter how old I get, I get to stay with the woman they all love, my wife.

Career vs. Calling, the three types of people, Heritage vs. inheritance

In dreaming dreams for our children’s success I have sometimes overstepped my bounds as the father and tried to superimpose a career choice upon them. I am not a forceful person, nor am I coercive. But I would like to see my children do well in life. Not for the sake of earning money alone but rather for the sake of being a strong contributor within their marriage (when they are married), within their church and within society in general.




For the most part I have been pleasantly surprised by the individual progress made by each of my seven children and ultimately the decision of what to do with their lives will rest with them. I have tried to keep their focus on others rather than on self and on God rather that the world in which we live. As I spoke to one of my daughters tonight it dawned on me that it would be better to put this thought in print.



I suppose I have come to expect my children to have a calling rather than a career. It is wonderful when that calling (a deep, earnest desire to fill a specially chosen area of service/ministry) provides a career (a wage-earning job) but this is not always the case. Several of my daughters desire to follow in their mother’s footsteps and be – above all – a wife and mother. As such, they will earn very little compensation, no time off and absolutely no retirement plan.



Rather, they will earn the respect of their husband and children for whom they provide an invaluable service, both in the home, the church and the community. My life would be so different if my wife had not chosen as she has to be there for me and our children 24/7/365. Those of my daughters that seek such service will do well and I am proud of their choice.



Those who choose a career will do well also and I am proud of them for their perseverance and persistence in pursuit of that goal. I do feel that they will be the ones who sacrifice a sense of fulfillment for a sense of accomplishment: freedom to serve for a paid service.



I have told my children often that there are three kinds of people in this world – generally speaking. There are those who see a problem and choose to ignore it. There are those who are too distracted or too ignorant to even see that there is a problem. There are those who see a problem and find a solution to it. If you are the third type of person, you will always be sought after; at home, at work, at church, or in the community.



Perhaps the feeling of being “trapped” where I am has left me in a pensive mood. Perhaps it is that mother’s day is close at hand. Perhaps the recent losses of loved ones of friends and coworkers have bred a sense of introspection. Whatever the reason for this moody post, I would like for my children to, one day, look back on their lives and see that their accomplishment is measured by more that an accumulation of things – money, automobiles, real estate, etc.



I would like them to pass on a heritage, if possible, along with an inheritance. The former takes far greater effort than the latter.

Interviews, Back to the budget, Potty training

Job interviews are not fun. I took two this week - both on the same day. I was pretty pleased by the first, not so much the second. Somewhere during the second interview I got the very distinct impression the interviewer lost interest in me. There was nothing I could do to recover. Since most interviews are one shot, make-it-or-break-it, looks like I broke it. The worst part is it is difficult to get any feedback in order to improve the skills needed to do well in an interview. So we struggle from one interview to the next doomed to repeat the same mistakes until someone looks beyond the answers and sees us. Such is life!




I have discovered the worst part about coming back form vacation – having to get back on the budget. It is so much fun not to worry over the everyday things like the electric bill, the cable bill or the car insurance bill. But, alas, reality sets in rather quickly.



We spent cash for our vacation so we do not have the added weight of credit card bills. We planned carefully and prepared well for the past vacation, but we spent it all. Looking at our account balance was a little sobering. Unlike our current president and congress, I had to tell my wife and family we would have to greatly limit our spending for several weeks.



The frightening caveat if that at the end of that several weeks we will be going on vacation again – this time to our daughter’s wedding. So the process will begin again. By the time we go on vacation the third time, several weeks after the wedding, to see our third grandchild born I will have to make cardboard signs for my son and I. “Will work for food.” I know just the corner each of us will stand on. It could be fun to see which one of us brings in the most cash. For fairly obvious reasons, I will not include my wife in the scheme…besides she will be collecting shells.



The wonderful child my wife watches is now deep in the throws of potty training. I had forgotten what a delightful process this is, when a child can collect stickers or pieces of candy simply for going “poo poo in the potty”. It is a magical moment of reason when they decide that they do not like sitting on the very item they are now being rewarded for, simply by making it to the toilet in time to deposit it there rather than in their pants.



Timing is the critical issue. I foresee us desperately racing to a McDonalds simply to meet the incredibly urgent deadline since there are very few places we could safely pull over to do #1 by the side of the road. In this area that would constitute reckless endangerment. I look forward to the times of long waits while the baby finishes #2 in the fast-food bathroom and the giddy excitement of a job well done. But what I look most forward to is the recounting by my wife to the child’s mother later that afternoon of just how well the baby did, how proud she is. Her excitement is contagious…my wife’s, that is. It is why she does so well at potty training a little one.



Oh, the story will be told over and over to every mother that will listen and all of them will revel in the moment; All because a little child had to go poop. I am so glad it is mommies that take care of this.

It's the little things

In preparation to make the trip to our daughter’s wedding in Hot Springs, AR my wife and I went to a local Triple A office. I find it is easier to speak to someone face-to-face and walk away feeling you have gotten all the answers needed than to try and decipher web page instructions. I get lost in the nuances of language and directions of web interactions. Besides that, I suffer the “gotcha” that often comes after I think I have been successful only to find out I actually missed something not so obvious in the fine print. And that usually costs me something.




What we needed was fairly simple. We needed to know the price of renting a car to drive from Memphis – Airtran closest terminal – to Hot Springs and back. It turned out to be not so simple a request but the person graciously helped us and we were able to make a decision based on his help. His understanding of our needs changed the way he approached the problem and he gave us valuable insights along with a workable solution including a promotional coupon. We were very pleased. It was worth the trip. It is pleasant to actually have someone help us.



While we were there the little girl we watch played happily with some brochures, stacking and spreading them out in turn. She was not able to get her hands to align the stack the way she sees us do – by holding them loosely and bouncing them against the tabletop, but she wanted to very badly. Her efforts to do so were hilarious. What was even more hilarious was her huffing “Aaahhh!!” of exasperation at each failed attempt. Such a “grown up” sound coming out of such a small person was too funny. After about fifteen minutes she crawled onto my wife’s lap and said “Mama Kim, bite me!”



The man helping us immediately stopped what he was doing and stared wide-eyed at her and my wife. He watched as my wife took the baby’s little arm and teasingly pretended to bite on it to tickle her. (Remember when you played with a child saying “I’m gonna eat you up”?) He seemed visible relieved. He sat back and laughed. Informing us that where he came from those were fighting words.



I was asked at work tonight if eating buggers was a good thing. Seriously, the argument was that they contained a concentrated dose of the very allergens (Pollen, dust, dander, etc.) that caused the problem that created them. Eating buggers, it was then argued, could strengthen your body’s immune response. After all, his wife told him she had just heard it explained that way on animal planet and one of his daughters had quickly tested the theory.



In all my reading, I have not come across that particular theory but my son-in-law will be thrilled to hear it.

Surprise Sunday,Choir, Children's church

Today was “Surprise Sunday”. It was more of a surprise for the adults in our church, rather than the children. A past pastor from our church was secretly invited to bring his family back to New Jersey and speak today. It was a delight to all who attend our church for the time he and his family served here during their seven years here.

He requested that the choir sing “Holy is He” as the special. I do not believe I have ever heard such a powerful presentation by our small choir. There are only twenty voices in our choir on a normal day. From that perspective, it was a normal day. We are always able to sing well since we are usually well-rehearsed, but today there was a special presence of the Lord with us and the song seemed to shake the rafters. It was a memorable moment. One where the presence of God seemed especially near.

We had a new helper in our Primary Church today. An adult that my wife wants to consider taking over the four and five-year-olds when we leave. It is something we have prayed about for some time. We have had several clear “NO!” answers because it overwhelms so many people. But it has been our ministry to the church for six years now. It will be difficult to leave these little smiling faces.

We have watched some of our “little ones” grow through elementary school into Junior High. Some we now have every Sunday morning have come from the nursery to our class. It is sobering. Those who come from christian homes, we reinforce the teaching of their parents. Those who come from non-christian homes, we give a foundation of faith. Only the Lord knows how it will turn out for them. That is also sobering.

Each of our children, in turn, has had their part in helping us and if we were closer, our granddaughter would be joining us next summer. Hopefully, each of our own children will, as we pray for each of our current “little ones” grow into their own ministry. God has promised that His Word will not return to Him void of fruit. (Isiah 55:11)

What Heaven will see of our ministry, only time will tell. We plant, sometimes we water, but God gives the increase. So whatever you are doing for the Lord, be faithful. God will bless.

Ikea, Counting by 10's, Repetition

We went to Ikea the other night to find some storage solutions. It is a sad fact that the same concept that make apartments attractive to builders – maximizing space to house more people in less space – also applies to living within them as well. Living in an apartment requires storing and making accessible more items in less space.

Added to that the fear of losing an expensive deposit, limits the ability to attach shelves or other storage devices to the walls so everything must be freestanding, non-permanent, ready to move at the appropriate time. It all seems temporary, transient and uninviting. That makes finding solutions that look nice challenging. But we did it. And it will even look good in our next living space – wherever that is.

For the past week my wife has had her little buddy back with her. He practically grew up in my wife's care – from the time he was only 18 months old until now six years old. They are best friends. It's always fun to have him around. He has a little issue with volume control – he practically shouts as he speaks. Like most kids his age he loves coins.

In the van we borrowed from our church there is a cup holder filled to the brim with coins. He was ecstatic when my wife suggested that he count them. As it turned out there were over four hundred pennies in the pile. He began to count them singly, but he would loose count at about eighty. He would then start over. I could have heard the entire exercise from the next apartment.

To help him out my wife suggested he put the pennies in piles of ten and then add up the total. From my perspective, it only meant starting all over again, but we set him up on a flat surface to start the new count. I have never been so tired of hearing “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. One, two, three...” Remember, there were four hundred pennies.

Forty times I endured the sequence. It was only then that we discovered that the piles had not been properly separated so they slid back together and had to be counted again. I was about to scream! So to keep the peace, I gave him a baggie to separate every one hundred pennies. When it was finally over he felt such a sense of accomplishment. I felt drained. My wife enjoyed the entire episode.

If repetition is the key to learning, it was an incredible learning experience.

plastic bags, Easter leftovers at 1/2 off, computer time

If your home is like mine you have at least one of those “socks “ that are used to stuff plastic grocery bags into to be pulled out later from the bottom to be reused. It is good to recycle, but I have no idea how we accumulate so many of these bags - we have two of these holders overstuffed with them. While we were living in West Virginia, we simply called them “Kroger” bags. I have thought about pulling all of them out and counting them, but it would only irritate me.

We cleaned up on Easter leftover's at Walmart. My wife has assembled baskets for our children for as long as we have had children. I am sure there was a little disappointment on the part of our children when they learned no baskets would be waiting for them Easter morning.

When we got back from vacation, I immediately started back to work – which took away from Mama the only car she could have used to run the errands to get the necessary items. So, we waited until after Easter to send out the goodies. Maybe it really is better late than never.

I have to finish early when I write at home since I have to share this computer with my son. I defer to him because his blog is actually making money, mine just uses up computer time. It also seems more necessary to him than to me. I don't facebook, twitter of message online. I am stuck in the early 90's when computers were tools rather than social networking machines. I my generation, we used phones for that. Believe it or not, I still write real letters. Someone has to support the post office.

Sad news from West Virginia, Twenty-seven people died in a coal mine explosion just outside Charleston. It is always a great loss to lose a loved one, but to lose one in such a way as this is beyond tragic. It is reason enough to keep your accounts short with those you love. We do not know when the last “Goodby” will be said.

I try to kiss my wife often and hug my children as often as possible. Every time I leave her immediate presence, I want her to know that I love her.

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Vacation conclusion

inconvenience of visiting, night shift and recovery, time and choices

It is a sad indictment of our society that we have forgotten how to interact; with our children, with our elders, even in large part with our friends. It has been the lot of my wife and I, and by default ,our children, to be the ones who had to make the trip to see whomever needed to be visited. Most of our vacations are still planned around family we need to see, who would not be seen if we do not make the effort to go to them.

I am not complaining. Keeping such close ties has kept the family strong and connected. Those far away from us ( several hundreds of miles) know we will come. After all, it is we who have moved away and in doing so have assumed that effort.

The friends we visited with today are much closer, only an hour away. Yet, even with them it takes a considerable effort to coordinate schedules, set aside the time and make the trip. It is always worth the trip, the time and the minor setbacks in scheduling,

I worked a surprise 12-hour night shift last night so my family had to wait on me to sleep for several hours before we could leave. For me it is always a “blah” time when I swap back between nights and days, so I have to be careful not to give in to the feelings of just wanting to lay around – vegetate. Once moving, I pick up steam and gather the emotional energy it takes to interact with those not within my normal frame of reference.

I am glad we went. These particular friends will be relocating internationally early next month. Skype will be our only contact, but it will be a point of contact to keep up with the growing children and the aging parents.

Life really is very short.

Who do you need to call or visit? Who is slowly growing “out of touch”? A friend, a neighbor, a relative? Sadly, in some homes it could be the person in the next room or the person sitting beside you on the couch.

Make an effort. Even an attempt that fails is better than no attempt at all. I like to keep “short accounts”. That is, I try to do it now rather than wait. A dear friend of ours taught our children, “To delay is to disobey.”

There is no easy way, but for things that matter as much as personal relationships, there really shouldn't be one.

Vacation part 4

600 miles to Texas, bluebonnets and sunsets, four generations, Biblical generations, being remembered

We arrived in Milton on a Friday evening and the kids coming from Arkansas arrives the next evening – Saturday. The following Thursday they returned to Arkansas and we took my daughter, her husband and the two grandchildren over to Chappell Hill, TX; six hundred miles away.

My parents live there and they had not met the great-grandchildren. They are both octogenarians and though they are in good health and still travel frequently, it was a good opportunity to show off my lineage. Besides Mama and I hoped the bluebonnets would be out so we could get some pictures with the grandchildren sitting in a field of bluebonnets – a sort of family tradition.

We did manage to get some pictures of both the bluebonnets and the incredible Texas sunsets. My grandson was less that thrilled by the staging of the photos since the flowers were as tall as he is while sitting, but we did what we could. My son is becoming a good photographer and since he is more technologically inclined, he knows more of the camera features than I have mastered. (More or less like operating the TV remote more efficiently.) Some of the pictures came out great.

I only thought about it later, but as we sat on my parent’s porch, there were four generations represented – my parents, us, our daughter and her husband and their children. It made me wonder what it might have been like in early Bible times when people lived to be several hundred years old. How many generations would you have to invite to a family reunion, or a birthday party? How would you remember all the names, all the different family groups?

Speaking of remembering, I was taken aback when we walked through tiny Chappell Hill. As we walked up to Lesser’s General Store the man there looked very familiar. Like someone the town had always had. He knew me right away. “You look like someone who used to live here.” I told him we were visiting my parents whom I mentioned by name. He then called me by name and asked questions someone would ask who has plenty of time and an equal amount of interest. We talked for some time.

It was unusual, living where I do now, to spend that much time with someone so unfamiliar, but there it seemed natural, meaningful. For my part, it was great being remembered, especially since his memories of me were pleasant and humorous. It was as humbling as it was uplifting – just to be remembered.

It made me think. Maybe this is more important than I realize. Writing, that is. Leaving some type of record may last beyond my grandchildren – which is about as long as any of us are remembered. I really enjoy the thought of being remembered.

What about you? Your life is worth being remembered too.

Vacation part 3

While in Florida our daughter took us to her and the children’s special walking spot. At the end of their block is, get this, a cemetery. It is a very large complex laid out in blocks covering probably fifteen acres. The road ways are older blacktop so they are easy for the grandchildren to navigate. That, coupled with the fact that there is almost no vegetation (no grass, no trees, no bushes or flowers) makes it a safe place to let the kids run off some energy while she has an unobstructed view.

On our tomb walks I looked at the gravestones and wondered what those still living were trying to say about the now dead. Some simply marked the spot with a name and a date. Some had elaborate engravings of flowers, plants and animals. Some equally elaborate engravings of sports scenes or equipment. Some had flowerpots attached. Some had birdbaths, etc. I wonder what my children will some day say about me.

To get to the graveyard we had to cross a 4-lane highway – no crosswalk, no traffic light. Now, living in New Jersey, crossing any 4-lane highway without a traffic light would be suicidal, but in Milton, we rarely had to wait on more than two or three cars to pass. That included both directions of the road. I think I could get used to that.

Our time at the beach was limited because of the low temperature and limited time, but I still managed to come home with shells found while we were there. My wife and one daughter started out in the sand, then worked into the very shallow, very cold water, then finally got greedy (and soaked) as they ventured further out where the shells were swirling in the break. The water was only up to the mid-calf but the waves were soaking them when it caught them bent over to scoop up their treasures.

My wife is the picture of “exuberance” when she if finding sea shells and I have to admit some of them are exceptional. To her it is the ultimate bargain. Totally free! (That is, minus the cost of travel, meals, etc.) When we go to the beach shops she sneers at the prices of the shells being sold. (Any true conchologist would!) I have to smile because I too have spent my time looking for bigger and better “free” shells. (It is the only part of the beach that I enjoy.)

We are often told that the best things in life are free. This is one example. Every set of shells we have collected brings to our minds the attached memories. These moments of calling to memory past events are free too. True, each of these memories actually cost something whether in the cost of travel or simply in the cost of time, but the memories they create can bring incredible value to life. Value far beyond the actual dollars spent; far beyond the sacrifice of time invested.

This past Easter weekend we remembered that Christ’s death on the cross was an expression of grace beyond what we can understand. That a Holy God would offer us a path to redemption and personal relationship with Himself through the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus Christ is also beyond our ability to understand. That is why they call it “faith”. But through this God offers us the gift of salvation.

This, too, is free.

Vacation part 2

While we were visiting the grandchildren in Florida our children who are attending college in Hot Springs, AR came over for a few days. It was a good little family reunion. My daughter and family live in a rather small three bedroom, two-bath house so there were beds everywhere.

Mama and I were given my granddaughter’s bedroom and she moved into her brother’s room temporarily. That takes up the three bedrooms so everyone else had to split up the living room. It was a tight fit for our two sons and three daughters – and the dog who had been brought over for the visit also. It was a houseful, but a happy houseful.

Each morning we would deflate the queen-sized inflatable bed (the blow-up bed) and my grandson would crawl onto the deflating bed and try to bounce so I would have to stop the deflation and get someone on the other side of the bed to alternate pushing down against the “pillowed” side so he would bounce up as the air moved form their side to mine and vice versa until I was afraid he would get sick to his stomach or we would get too carried away and hurt him.

This would be followed by eating Milton Bakery doughnuts. I do not eat many doughnuts and I am faced with a variety from Dunkin Donuts at least once a month at work. But I make an exception for these doughnuts. They are incredible! Good thing we do not visit too often.

We ate good Mexican food - probably too much of that also – walked on the beach, took lots of pictures, attended my daughter’s church and in general had a wonderful time. It was vacation after all. Spend too much, eat too much and figure out the cost for each of those activities later.

Much like my grandson who found delight in an overly soft mattress, vacations are transient times, great memory making opportunities, a short escape from reality, but those mundane, incidental daily details must soon be reckoned with for life to have a good foundation.

For me, Thank God vacations are only a few days long otherwise; I would weigh three hundred pounds and be financially destitute. We do have fabulous memories of those few short days, but that is not where we live.

I find it a good practice to keep reality turned on in the back of my mind so coming back from vacation does not frustrate and depress me. My life is far from ordinary, far from mundane, but it is not hopping from one thrill to another.

That is not what drives me. I adore my wife, I love our children and grandchildren, I love our church and the people that make up our church and I try to ensure that we laugh a lot; to do that we have to find pleasure in the smallest of things.

Though we have sold our house at a great loss, the birds still sing outside the windows of our small apartment. Though we cannot be with our grandchildren any more than we are, they still get very excited to see us or to talk to us on Skype. Though we cannot be there (where we really want to be) we are loved and needed here.

Our life is not empty or disappointing because we cannot have each day what we had for a few days of vacation; our life is full because we have so much where we are now. I am determined not to waste a single moment of what I have here wishing I were somewhere else.

God is good!

Vacation part 1

Vacation gave us a much needed respite from the cares of normal living. Twelve days and almost four thousand miles of travel begun literally as we emptied our house and stuffed our apartment and garage. I still ache when I see what was to be “my space” overflowing with the accumulation of items, most of which, if left unmoved for several years, would have no negative impact on our daily lives or our overall quality of life.

We left with the little van packed front to back, floor to ceiling. In addition, the car-top carrier was stuffed to bursting with items that will now stuff my daughter’s house. Such is the legacy I have passed on to my offspring.

Getting to Milton took three days because of appointments and business meetings, but the delayed arrival was worth it with respect to what was accomplished. We thought about driving straight through from southern Ohio to Milton, but abandoned that late in the evening opting to stay the night outside of Lexington, KY. It was expensive and slightly disappointing – many hotels are – But we managed to get enough sleep to complete the trip the following day.

Our granddaughter spent the day in irritating expectation by announcing every car that passed her house as simply, “That’s not Grammy’s car.” We thought it was precious; her mommy, not so much.

It is wonderful to see our heritage grow and to remember back to the time my grandchildren’s mommy was two or three years old. Now seeing the reflection of that little girl in the faces of these two children is slightly overwhelming. I cannot speak for most people, but for me it is both gratifying and humbling to see how much we have been blessed.

More later.

the big move

We are incredibly sore – that is my wife and I are sore. With the help of some friends and a bobtail truck with a lift gate, we successfully moved the contents of a four bedroom house with a two car garage into a two bedroom apartment and a single car garage. The apartment looks good; the garage, not so much.

It is once again staggering how much “stuff” we have allowed ourselves to accumulate. (Remind anyone about the slow, subtle weight gain we talked about?) It is even more humbling when we consider all the items we gave away, threw away and sold. I thought I was doing well on economizing the garage space as we began to fill it. It looked pretty good even after the first truckload on Thursday. Friday was not so kind to me.

After emptying the attics in the garage and the master bedroom I realized my dreams of having it look like anything but a storage space were fading quickly. Last night put those vain hopes to rest for good. But there is a spot for the freezer and enough room to get to it and safely open it.

I think I will have a sign printed to be hung at the garage opening that will read, “Danger: Do NOT Sneeze or Cough in Garage - Life-threatening Avalanche may occur! Or I could put one on the exterior on the garage door that reads. “Open door slowly as contents may have shifted since this door was last opened!

(Where was our son during this move? He was at a basketball tournament Thursday, Friday and Saturday. Lucky, huh? Not to worry, he will spend the next several evenings helping clean the now empty house. Hope he didn’t have big plans for those evenings.)

This move has been a true reminder that there is very often “no easy way”. I have teased my wife and our kids about the need to move every seven years or so in order to purge some of the unnecessary accumulation out of our lives. Sadly, we are on track. Even sadder still, we throw away way too much junk every time we do move.

If only I could be confident that we are storing up that much treasure in Heaven.

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