I recently read a short and sweet phrase on “serving” while facilitating an adult class on How Happiness Happens by Max Lucado. He summarized the process of serving others this way: “Doing good does the doer good!” In fact, if we’re serving others that have no hope of repaying us, we’re doing God’s work. If we’re expecting something in return, we’re doing business!
My wife Karen and I volunteered to participate in a community mission effort a number of years ago. We gathered as a group in our JUMC Fellowship Hall and were given an assignment for the day to make a difference in our community. And before we all departed, our Bishop gave us a rather daunting instruction. We were challenged to “see Jesus along the way”.
We ended up working with a retired law officer who was trying to offer after school assistance to elementary school children. He had received a large number of books from a major school supply company that desperately needed to be organized. In the course of spending the day with this man, we got to know him better and understand that his heart was in the right place, but his resources were woefully lacking. After the kids arrived later, he slipped outside and grilled dinner for all of us on a small charcoal grill.
When we returned to JUMC for a debriefing, I was able to confirm that we had indeed seen Jesus that day in the form of a man that had seen too much suffering and pain in his community and sought to do something positive about it at its core.
Later, our church was able to initiate an Agape initiative at an elementary school in that community which funded and staffed after school care.
I had been helping a young second grade boy with reading a Christmas book and another about a pig that outfoxed a fox in our after-school mission. He actually didn’t need much assistance except for just a few foreign words. When a woman with similar features appeared to pick up one of the children, I noticed that the boy was gathering his backpack and putting on his winter coat. So, I approached her and mentioned that he had done a very good job of reading two books to me today. She asked if I was from the church and I acknowledged that I was.
She then thanked me for helping her family have a wonderful Thanksgiving and Christmas with the donations that had been sent home with every child before the school break. Her eyes revealed a true sincerity. Without giving my response much thought I mentioned that it was all in the spirit of Christmas and it was a two-way street. I had experienced a much better holiday season this year because we were able to provide the interaction, presents and food. And it was especially gratifying to observe that this woman was able to see Jesus through the efforts of the people at our church.
OBSERVATIONS WORKSHOP
Reflecting truths, observations and lucky moments as they're encountered on life's journey.
Saturday, May 4, 2024
SERVING OTHERS
Tuesday, April 30, 2024
GLACIAL RETURN TO STARDUST
I’ve been drawn to this abandoned dairy barn ever since I first noticed it not too far off the edge of an invasive movement of development in the area. And I’ve always liked the notion that the wrinkles that we all acquire as we age can easily be compared to weathered barn wood that sells for a premium these days.
There’s an unwritten truth in this world that life and nature can take all worldly things in an instant or at a glacial pace. As late spring weather spawns severe storms with destructive tornados, anyone in their path knows just how true that is for both worldly possessions and sentient lives. Nothing in this life lasts forever even though everything leaves at different and unpredictable times.
Modern science has determined that matter can neither be created nor destroyed. And all matter is composed of the stardust of the validated Big Bang. Billions of years have witnessed the creation of all matter on this planet, including this planet, and when matter disintegrates back into the stardust of creation, new life emerges once again.
Perhaps that’s why I’m perpetually drawn to observe and commune with this silent sentinel of the country every time I pass by to observe the changing skyline overhead and the pasture grasses at its open doors. Hawks glide overhead and have found refuge in the adjoining twin silos along with all varieties of woodland creatures that have burrowed their way under the damaged roof.
If
nature has its way, another decade will pass before the glacial transformation
will be complete. But I fully expect to
drive by any day now only to observe the total annihilation of the dairy farm
to make way for hundreds of apartment units on the site in the name of progress. Maybe that’s why I feel compelled to document
its life while most of the stardust is still intact along with mine.
Tuesday, April 16, 2024
HAPPINESS IS LIKE A BUTTERFLY
If you Google “Happiness”
on the internet, which is where I get a lot of my information these days, you
will quickly find a quote which folks have used in various forms from Henry
David Thoreau. Thoreau has written that “Happiness is like a butterfly; the more
you chase it, the more it will elude you, but if you turn your attention to
other things, it will come and sit softly on your shoulder.”
Different Native American tribes interpret butterflies in
their own way, but generally, they're thought to represent change and
transformation, comfort, hope and joy.
I remember chasing
after Swallowtail butterflies on their annual migrations and just when you get
close enough, they casually move along on the summer breeze. I suspect there are childhood memories of
many adults doing the same thing and learning the same lesson. And if we’ve run the gauntlet of life on this
planet for enough years, it’s very easy to relate that experience to the
concept of happiness that also can be very elusive.
Our culture considers the path to happiness strewn with all
imaginable sorts of worldly stuff which the Mad Men of Madison Avenue
subliminally and not so subliminally barrage us with over the course of almost
every waking hour on the planet. One of Best Buy’s ads said it all; “I want it
all and I want it now!” We’re definitely
an “instant gratification” society. Don Draper
of the 1960’s Mad Men advertising series wrapped things up neatly when he made
a pitch to a CEO for their business; “What is happiness? It’s the moment before we need more
happiness.” Advertisers and salespersons
know that looking for happiness in all the wrong worldly places can be very short
lived!
But if we simply go about our life following
the greatest commandment which Jesus proclaimed of loving our creator and our
brothers and sisters, the butterfly will glide in and sit on our shoulder. We can experience a lasting happiness in life when we help
someone who has no possibility of returning the favor. If we do something for someone and expect
something in return, we’re doing business!
This may bring a temporary happiness, but not the internal joy that has
lasting power in our life.
We will
face difficult circumstances in the course of a life that are beyond our
control with one exception—how we respond. And we should be careful not to
confuse temporary, external circumstance, happiness with eternal, internal, joy
that reveals which gods we worship in life. We were created to be forever
joyful which I consider to be a more informed extension of happiness that will
dwell peacefully in our heart.
Tuesday, February 6, 2024
LOOKING AT LIFE FROM BOTH SIDES
I’ve always been mesmerized by Joni Mitchell’s 1969 song Both Sides Now which she wrote at 21. It was introduced in her second album Clouds and has become her best known song. But I was uncertain about watching her perform her poetic lyrics last Sunday at the Grammys while sitting in a living room chair sixty years later. The longer I watched and listened, however, the message held new meaning for me as we are both now close in age and have experienced both sides of a life well lived.
It seems that Joni found the
inspiration for the song while sitting at the window seat in an airplane and
noticing the flip side of clouds, as we’re the first generation to see from
that perspective. She observed that she
had always saw them as beautiful ice cream castles from below, but also concluded that they
can block the sun while raining and snowing on everyone. By this time, she had fought and won a
struggle with polio at age nine, the “win and lose” of life, and given
up her baby daughter at 20 that she had with a fellow student that wasn’t ready
for parenthood, the “give and take” of love. Clouds got in the way. I too have observed the dark, menacing,
underbelly of thick clouds only to discover beautiful skyscapes on the other
side once the plane gains altitude and breaks through to the other side.
Joni continues the dichotomy observing
that “old friends shake their heads and say I’ve changed, but ‘something’s
lost and something’s gained’ in living every day.” She finally concedes that “I really don’t
know life at all.” But today at age 80
she has the advantage of reflecting back from the other side of life with the wisdom
of age and the writings of those who have come before us. We all have the succinct words from authors
like M. Scott Peck that “Life is difficult” and Robert Frost who summed
up everything he learned about life in three words, “It goes on.”
Thursday, February 1, 2024
COWBOY WISDOM
Most of the stuff people worry
about ain’t never gonna happen anyway.
Silence is sometimes the best
answer.
Timing has a lot to do with the
outcome of a rain dance.
Sometimes you get, and sometimes
you get got.
Most times, it just gets down to
common sense, which ain’t so common.
If you get to thinkin’ you’re a
person of some influence, try orderin’ somebody else’s dog around.
Live simply. Love generously. Care deeply.
Speak kindly. Leave the rest to
God.
Live a good, honorable life. Then when you think back, you’ll enjoy it a
second time!
Always drink upstream from the herd.
“Wilderness is not a luxury but a necessity of
the human spirit.” --Edward Abbey
That final bit of wisdom prompted me to think way back and enjoy a memory a second time. Early in our marriage, my wife Karen and I enjoyed driving west on I-70 on a summer vacation from Kansas City to Denver, Colorado and the colorful Rocky Mountains. Western Kansas and Eastern Colorado are flat land cattle pastures and waving wheat fields with panoramic skies that wrap 360 degrees and provide endless skyscapes. But once you approach Denver, what seems to be lowering dark clouds on the horizon become in focus as towering mountain ranges.
We two city folk had driven up a rather remote mountain trail on a subsequent July afternoon and happened upon a pure Rocky Mountain stream that was calmly moving the opposite direction alongside our vehicle. It was obviously being fed by springs and what little snow melt still remained on the shady areas among the pine trees. The temperature was hot in the bright sunshine and we hadn’t packed anything for snacks or drinks on this little adventure.
As we approached the summit of the trail, we stopped and ventured out into nature beside the gurgling mountain stream. I dipped my cupped hand into the water and experienced an immediate coolness in contrast to the ambient temperature. We knew enough about hiking to understand that there are purifying tablets which can be added to ground water in a container, but we were ill prepared for that. So, I confidently announced that this water must be as pure as any liquid on the planet and drank in a cupped handful of the cool Coors beer Rocky Mountain spring water!
We hadn’t ventured more than a quarter
mile up the trail when we saw signs indicating the trail was ending. We soon noticed a sign that announced the
presence of a camp ground ahead and an admonition not to drink the water! I gasped and turned the car around, realizing
that I had just drank water down stream from the herd! I carefully monitored my lower intestine for
about 24 hours, but thankfully never got sick.
Wednesday, January 24, 2024
YOU, YOURSELF INCORPORATED
Thursday, January 18, 2024
SOUNDS THAT TOUCH THE SOUL
The opening lines to the classic country song, I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry, by Hank Williams evokes memories of hearing that provocative sound in the very still of the night. I remember hearing that sound as a child in bed since we lived within about a mile from a train crossing in Kansas. The wind had to be in the right direction to hear it that far away, which made it evoke a sense of spiritual resonance. That sound of a train whistle at major crossways can only resonate at a distance and usually late at night. If it’s carried on a strong north wind in winter time the feeling is even more emotional. I hadn’t heard the sound for many years after leaving home, but now I can hear it once again here at home in North Carolina. It not only conjures up the same emotions, but also memories of my long-ago childhood. It’s one of those extraordinary sounds that touches the soul. And it can trigger nostalgia, remembering who we were and validating our own identity.
That sound evoked loneliness in
old Hank and obviously many others related to the lyrics. But loneliness is a state of sadness, while
solitude is a healthy state of meaningful self-reflection. It’s a state of being alone without being
lonely. You can be lonely in a crowd,
but you can’t experience solitude there.
There are some other sounds that have the capacity to touch the solitary soul and evoke emotions of well being at the deepest level of human life. One of the first that comes to mind is another one from my childhood of sitting on a dock and hearing the call of a distant loon over a moonlit placid Minnesota Northwoods lake. I’ve been walking up a vanishing windrow of midwestern hedge trees hunting bob white quail and hearing their calls as they gather the covey together. And many of us have quietly listened to the soft coo of mourning doves at daylight. Then there’s the rhythmic song of cicadas in the trees on summer evenings while sitting with family outside on a wrap-around porch. I’ve also been sitting on a rural river bank at sunset while the crickets and frogs serenaded all of us. And who of us has been touched by the experience of sitting near the ocean at any time of the day apart from the noise of civilization and hearing the rhythm of the breaking waves on shore that takes us back to the first nine months of life in the watery womb?
A few other sounds that have touched my soul include the wind and ancestral spirits racing through pine needles at the ancient Mesa Verde ruins in Colorado, standing on the prairies of eastern Colorado and western Kansas and hearing the distant thunder of an approaching summer storm, and standing outside our home in central Kansas as a winter snow mixed with sleet gently falls upon frozen ground. Distant church bells and windchimes touch my soul along with the whirring drone of an overhead airplane that slowly fades away along with all of nature on a late autumn afternoon.
It occurs to me that all of these reflective
sounds that have touched deep within my soul were experienced outside in God’s
creation. Perhaps that’s why I still
enjoy the solitude of being there.