Before you read...

 

DISCLAIMER!! Before you even begin to read this… know that some, or all of you, will be upset because of my opinion. We are all entitled to one, whether we agree or not. This is your opportunity to click the little disconnect button before we even begin, because I intend to vent.

A year ago this week normal died. We were told it would only be weeks, which then turned into months and now for over a year we have lived as if in a private prison. I know that sounds harsh to some, but really, think about it. We have been commanded to accept rules and regulations that have not proven to protect us. People have lost jobs, businesses are closed, schools are on-line and failing our children, those who need people (like all of us) are suffering from issues that could be cured with a family gathering or barbecue. Short of locking ourselves up in our homes and throwing away the key, according to the powers-that-be, we are not safe no matter what we do.

While I am not blaming anyone in particular for this madness, I do believe many have gone off the deep end. It seems to have become a power issue not a health issue. And if there were one truth out there, I might follow it, but the truth changes daily depending on who you listen to or what you read. I used to believe truth was absolute, but in this day and age, there are so many versions of it that I can’t decide which guru I want to follow.

There are those who have made science their god. And while I have no problem with science, in fact I love science, like everything on this earth it needs to be taken with a grain of salt. Science “theories” change daily. That which we once considered true, has now been disproven. The earth is not flat, nor is it the center of the universe. Theories come and go on a daily basis. Proposed “theories” are to be tested to be proven true or discarded if not. Today we just accept the theory as truth without the testing. So, perhaps that which be believe now will also fall out of favor in the future.

Will the day come when it will be said that “we over reacted” to a little protein molecule that has invaded our lives? I am pretty sure it will. In five years – or ten, we will wonder what all the hub-bub was about. We will look back and see that it was never a pandemic, it was people and politics that caused the problem. Most people, given half a chance will do the right thing. They will stay home when they are sick, they will wash their hands, they might even wear a mask.

Science will not save us. We are fearfully and wonderfully made by a creator that has made a body that has cells that can build, fix, fight off, repair and grow our bodies. Unfortunately these bodies were not meant to last forever. They wear out, they get sick, they succumb to death. I suspect no one wants to die but there is no other way out of this world. Yes, we have overcome things such as smallpox, polio and childhood diseases with vaccines. But those medications came after many years of testing. The average vaccine is a “work in progress” for ten to twenty years before it is released, and it still comes with side-effects for some. Having lived with someone who survived the science of chemotherapy, the after effects are long lasting and do much more than destroy cancer.

I struggle with this whole thing. Not so much with Covid, but with society’s reaction to it. Rather than becoming united against a front, we have been quite literally torn apart. Rather than uplifting one another, we tear each other down. We put people in boxes, we give them names, races, genders, economic status… all to separate us. Life is short! Why spend it angry, upset, flailing at windmills. I don’t care about your “box”, I do however have expectations. I expect people to respect one another, I expect them to help and support each other, I expect them to work together. I expect them to act and react with common sense. That can’t be that hard, can it?

Just Writin’ on the River Road

Hope Springs Eternal!

 

A quote from The Essay of Man by Alexander Pope written in 1732, claims that “hope springs eternal”. And it is true. If it wasn’t, the lottery business would be a bust. People will continue to hope, despite the odds. There are times though, when we can be reassured that our hope is not misplaced. Sometimes there is that hint that allows us to be absolutely certain of what the future holds. Take my rhododendron bush, for instance. When we moved in a year ago, I marveled how it remained green in the midst of winter with its leathery leaves shining in the cold. What was really interesting was that it had buds on the end of each stem... in January. Unfamiliar with rhododendrons, I was quite sure those buds would succumb to the cold and snow. But, low and behold, come summer, it had the most exquisite blooms. What was astounding is that those new buds are formed in the fall and spend all winter covered in snow. That little bud remains tightly curled and remains unaffected by the ice and frost.

I want to be that little bud. And, in many ways I am. In those times of darkness and cold, I wrap myself tightly in my little cocoon, knowing that in spite of difficult times, spring will come eventually. And when it does, I will have everything I need to bloom! All this sounds so fanciful, so proverbial, so incredible. And yet it is true. Hope does spring eternal in every heart. Without hope, what would we have? A life of brutal honesty, of pessimism or unfulfilled desires. Without hope, there would be no dreams, no belief, no faith. What a sad world we would inhabit. Without hope there would be little happiness or joy, no laughter, little satisfaction or fulfillment, nothing to look forward to.

Our lives are not like that. Even on our darkest day, when we feel we have reached the end and there is nothing to look forward to, there is always a little sliver of hope. It’s that chance moonbeam on a dark and stormy night, a dew drop clinging to a fresh flower or the song of a bird to lift your heart. Hope. It’s always there. We can lose it, misplace it or kick it up the road, but that doesn’t mean it leaves us behind.

Hope takes a lot of trust. Whether it is trust in your maker, yourself or others… we cling to our hope. Out there are dangerous lands, scary places, unknown terrain and tides of hopelessness. And yet, we always hope, no matter how bad life gets. And for some it can seem nearly hopeless. But it isn’t. It just temporarily feels that way. Life can be a lot of things… exciting, stagnant, passionate, painful… but it is never without hope.

I love the definition of faith from the Bible: “Now faith is being sure of what we HOPE for and certain of what we do not see.” (Hebrews 11:1) It’s kind of difficult to wrap a rope around that and tie it to a post. We have to think a little harder than we are often willing to do. It tells me I can survive on hope. It’s just around the corner, always there somewhere. Maybe I can’t see it today… but maybe tomorrow, or next week or in ten years something will happen. I can be certain that it is always there waiting for me.

With so much uncertainty in the world today, hope is having a difficult time surviving in great abundance. It will. I know it will. Just like my rhododendron bud, it is there, tightly wrapped, covered in snow, patiently waiting for spring to bring life racing through its little body. Hope is my ability to hear the melody of the future, but faith is having the courage to dance to its tune today. So let’s dance!

Just Writin’ on the River Road

What did you get for Valentine's Day?

 

Ah, Valentine’s Day! The day we show our loved ones how much we care about them. How do we do that? Candy, flowers, a special dinner, a night out? Those are all wonderful ways to express our appreciation. What about the rest of the year? Just asking. Shouldn’t there be a little Valentine’s Day each and every day of the year?

I received a Valentine this week. For all intents and purposes, it appeared to be a beautifully wrapped empty box. No candy, no sweet nothings, just an empty box. I was more than a little puzzled until I read the attached note.

Did you look in the box and find it empty?

Was nothing for you there?

Look again. You must have missed it.

For within I placed my prayer.

Little birds called at the window,

The sun peeked in there too.

As I told the Lord I loved Him,

I also spoke of you.

Sometimes when I pray for you

A tear will cross my cheek,

So I pray for peace that passes understanding

To be with you this week.

Other times there is a special joy

That with the Lord I share.

He listens to all I have to say

Whether it’s pleasure or despair.

Then I leave my little quiet place

And begin to start the day,

I’m so thankful for his watchful hand

Guarding me at work and play.

And as surely as He’s here with me,

He’s there with you as well,

‘Cause I asked the Lord to bless you

Just at the morning bell.

So when you look inside again,

Please see this box not bare.

And count it as a priceless gift

‘Cause I filled it up with prayer.

                        LuAnn Hudspeth                                                                                                                                     (Used with permission of the author.)

 

As I read this, it touched my heart. What more could I ever want or desire than someone who cares enough to bring my name before the Lord. She took the time to pray for me! And I have been told that is how we spell love . . . T I M E. Flowers will die, candy disappears, dinners will be eaten . . . but the time we spend with someone will create lovely memories to last a lifetime. So this Valentine’s Day treat your loved one to something special, but make sure you have also given them your time.

And if you are ever so lucky as to receive an empty box wrapped with beautiful ribbon, know that you have received a priceless gift . . . one of love and thought and prayer.

Just Writin’ on the River Road

Save a Drowning Child

 

Two men standing by a river notice a child struggling to stay afloat, so they dive in to save him. Then they see a second child in the river and a third. One of the men continues saving children, but the other rushes to the shore and runs up the bank. When asked where he was going, he responds that he’s headed up stream to stop the guy who is throwing kids into the river. (Dan Heath, Duke University.)

I confess when I read this little parable, I was pulled up short. It was almost like a slap in the face. This is the theme of this world we live in. Fix the immediate problem, but not the cause of the problem. I see it everywhere. The medical community hands you a pill to relieve your symptom. The welfare system gives out food to fix an immediate need. The political system is concentrated on making everybody happy to get their vote. At some point, we are going to have to figure out why we have these problems in order to fix them.

Operating Twelve Baskets (our non-profit ministry) has been an eye opener for me. We began by generously fixing everyone’s immediate needs. And then it became apparent that there were those who returned repeatedly for help. Obviously we were not fixing the problem. So we became more discerning, asked more questions, offered different options and our requests for help diminished. Not that we don’t want to help people, for that is our purpose, but we had to decide if we were helping or were we enabling. What became abundantly clear was that most people did not want to be accountable. They did not desire financial planning, budgeting lessons, help finding a job . . . they just wanted the bill paid. Our focus changed at some point in ten years. We now offer things that can help people out of their hole. And those things take work, effort, and willingness to change. Sometimes it means saying no. That makes us look heartless. We are not. We genuinely want the best for people. But we can’t do it for them. We want to fix the problem so they won’t find themselves struggling in the river. We want to teach them to fish rather than handing them a fish.

We have built a society around entitlement. Bottom line is that none of us are entitled to anything. We work, earn a living, save our money, have retirement put away, maybe some savings . . . things to get us through life. These things have been earned with blood, sweat and tears. Yes, bad things happen that are out of anyone's control . . . those are the times when a hand “up” is necessary, a helping hand so they can get back on their feet.

How do we change this world? How do we forsake the drowning child and go up stream to fix the problem? I wish I knew. In a world of instant gratification, there is very little planning or focusing on the future, there is only “now”. And literally “now” is all we have, but that is no reason to not dream, plan or hope for things that will improve our lives. Work hard, seek an education, put forth effort to improve your situation; don’t spend your life as the one who is continually being pulled out of the river. Eventually you are going to drown in the process. Think about it!  Are you helping or enabling?

Just Writin’ on the River Road

Light up the New Year!

 

A light at the end of the tunnel. As we welcome a new year, is there a light at the end of the tunnel? To say it has been a strange year would be a gross understatement. We are all hoping and praying that 2021 will be better. But will it? Yes, we will still be dealing with Covid-19, but what else can we do?

I once read that you can see the light of a candle the length of a football field away. That’s pretty amazing if you think about it. A football field is approximately 120 yards long and a candle flame is maybe an inch high. How is it possible to see that dot of light from such a distance? Well, first, we have to be looking for it. Recently I went out to view the conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn in the night sky. Had I not been looking for it, I would have missed it completely. It was the same with a comet earlier this year. It was there, but it looked like a smudge on my glasses. But because I was persistent, I saw it. We have to seek the light. It’s always there, but there are times we have to search long and hard to see it.

Earlier this morning, I went out to check the mail. We live in the flight path to the Boise airport so see the planes as they getting ready to land. They are low as they pass over the house. Yet, on this morning, I couldn’t see the plane for the fog. But I knew it was there. Even though I couldn’t see it, I could hear it. Just because we can’t see something doesn’t mean it isn’t there.

It feels like life is without light right now. People are sick, dying, out of jobs, loosing their businesses, scared and lonely. It appears to be a dark time. And yet, somewhere there is a candle burning. I have to look for it, and when I find it I have to feed the flame. Every candle will eventually go out if we don’t add fuel to keep it going. The size of the fire depends on how much fuel we add to that sputtering little flame. The bigger the fire, the more light there is. I don’t see many lighthouses guiding our way right now. But I do see a thousand little candles flickering in neighborhoods, communities, hospitals and schools. What can we do to feed those flames?

It is “the” question for the New Year. Are we willing to sit in the dark and bemoan our situation, or are we willing to get up and chop some wood to keep the fire burning? Are you at a loss as to what you can do? To begin with, I would suggest you look for the light. It can be found within your family, your work place, your church or your neighborhood. Whether you have a toothpick or a cord of wood to add to the flame, do it! Every little bit helps!

Where there is light, there can be no darkness. Even if the light is as faint as a candle at the end of a football field, there is still light. We only need the faintest light to ensure solid footing as we walk this path of life. Be that light for someone else in your life. Pass your light along to those who need it. Fill their buckets with tinder to start a new fire. Be creative, innovative, passionate and show the world that we all can make a difference!

Happy New Year! May all of your days be filled with the Light of the World! For in Jesus, there is no darkness! 

Just Writin' on the River Road

 

Dear Little Bit has grown up and left home. I am sure my friend doesn’t know he has moved to my house. I love having him . . . for the most part. He indulges in his breakfast every morning as I sit at my desk and chat with many of you. Ever vigilant, he perches atop the bench in the back yard, surveying his little kingdom. No cats in sight. He dips into the pan of sunflower seeds and peanuts quickly. Little does he know that the cats are eyeballing him from the window and are too lazy to go out and bother him.

Posing atop the park bench with his fluffy tail curled into a perfect “s” shape, he is the epitome of every squirrel everywhere. His red fur with its golden tips is shiny and perfectly coiffed. He is a postcard portrait. He moves in increments almost like a mechanical pet. His little tail snaps and fluffs as he surveys his world. And then he is off and running, climbing a tree with lightening speed. He stops midway and chatters at whatever it was that startled him. His tail waving and snapping as if to warn all squirrel-dom of danger.

Little Bit and I had an encounter earlier this fall. One that was rather personal for me. I had a lovely rope hammock swing hanging from the tree. “Had” being the key word. I could lazily swing in the warm breezes, enjoy the sound of the creek and watch the ducks swim or nap in the water. Then one day I saw a squirrel caught in the netting. I ran to rescue it, but he had managed to escape by the time I got there. It was then I noticed a hole the size of Rhode Island in my swing! It seems frayed rope must make ideal lining for a nest. I was a little torqued for a while and tried to encouraged the cats to conduct massive squirrel hunts. Not that they listen, much less obey! But it was hard to stay angry with the little critter for long, after all he is the embodiment of all cuteness!

I have forgiven Little Bit for his bad choice of nesting material and will make his life somewhat easier this winter by providing snacks. His little home, no matter how well insulated, does not have central heating. And, in this time with little to nothing to occupy my time, he is the cream in my coffee every morning. We must remember to find joy in all things. Even if it is just a little bit.

P.S. This little vignette was written for my friend Sherry, who is the creator of Little Bit. She has written a book, Little Bit in the Great Wide Forest, for children. Each short story is a morality play to teach children how to act and react when life gets confusing and difficult. These are great bed time stories that evoke discussion of the problems they face daily. If you would like to share this book with your children or grandchildren, please check out Little Bit in the Great Wide Forest by Sherry Vycital York at Amazon. It would make a great Christmas present!

Merry Christmas from the River Road

 

I am finished decorating for the holidays! I don’t remember it being this much work! I had an dozen huge boxes of decorations in the living room that I had to empty. As I hung up things in new spots, I also put a number of things into a carton that would eventually go to the thrift store. Now, in this house, I have much less space so a number of things had to go away.

We moved in to this house last year on Christmas Eve. It looked so dark and bare and lonely compared to the rest of the homes on the street. This year is much different. I bought a new tree and it sits proudly in the living room window for all to enjoy. Unfortunately the rest of the indoor decorations will go unappreciated by friends and family in this year of Covid-19. Deciding there would be no lights strung from the roof (ladders and age don’t mix well), we covered our bushes with lights, decorated the lamp post in the front yard and put up a huge sign saying “Holiday Greetings”.

Have you ever wondered why we go to all this effort to decorate our homes for Christmas? Does it have meaning? Is it just pretty? Yes and yes. I have ceased putting up Santa Claus décor. There is a handful of small items, but they stay because of the memories attached to them. I like greenery and candles, not that I ever light them. I enjoy the tree, it offers a soft, glowing warmth to the room. In previous years, it was decorated with pictures of the children, things that they made, gifts from friends . . . it was kind of an eccentric mess. But it was full of love and cherished memories. I have since passed on those decorations to the kids . . . who knows what they did with those interestingly crafted tidbits. Now I can have a tree with a “theme”. Not that I ever do, but it is fun to think that I can have one if I want.

Among the things I treasure and put up every year are my nativity scenes. One was a gift from the kids many, many years ago, small, plain white ceramic figures that depict the story of Christ’s birth. Some have gotten broken over the years and carefully glued back together, a little like the lives that we now offer on the altar of our faith. We are all chipped, cracked, damaged, scarred or broken in some manner. But God, in His infinite wisdom was the inventor of super glue. He can repair, fix, refine and even remodel all of those defects to create a finely crafted piece that reflects His Glory. I, for one, am ever so grateful that He has not tossed me out as too broken to celebrate the birth of his Son. In His eyes, I am perfect in every way. I am loved, forgiven, healed, sanctified and glorified! And ever so thankful!

What sort of decorations can I put up that could depict all that I have received from God? There is nothing, really. I can put up creches, or crosses, or candles and lights . . . but they are all just things. What He deserves and wants is my willingness to listen, to obey, to witness and share my faith with a lost and hurting world. How do I do that? I can’t (well, won’t) stand on the street corner and preach. I am not a missionary, or even a very good witness of all He has done for me. What I can offer are the gifts He has blessed me with over the years. I can be generous with my words and encouragement. I can forgive the undeserving and love the unlovely. Faith comes gift wrapped as a helping hand, a pot of soup, a note of appreciation, a telephone call or a visit. This Christmas, I pray that my God-given gifts be generously distributed among all of you. Next year we may celebrate with parties and dinners, but this year accept my gift of faith in that innocent child that was sent to save us all.

Merry Christmas to one and all!

Just Writin’ on the River Road