USING OUR GIFTS

Lost Everything, Chicago, IL

By the grace of God, we’ve all been given certain gifts in this life to use as we are so motivated.  These gifts are as far reaching as the diversity of the human race.  I would challenge anyone who claims that they have no special gifts.  All it takes is the time to stop the merry-go-round and meditate on our abilities and the activities that we enjoy in life.

The parables that Jesus related to the people and his disciples always had a deeper meaning than the story that unfolded in the telling.  On the surface, his parable of a man who was going on a journey seemed to be routine enough.  He called three of his servants together and gave the first a total of five talents (an ironic term for money), the second received two talents and the last was given one talent, each according to his abilities.  These talents represent any gifts or resources we have received in life that we can use to enhance the lives of others less fortunate.  The first two men doubled their money while the last one literally buried his talent.  The master rewarded the first two men with more responsibility and they shared in his celebration, but the third who did nothing was ordered to give it to the one that now had ten talents and he was dismissed.

All of these men had the opportunity and free will to use their abilities responsibly, but only two of them used their resources to improve the state of the enterprise.  That analogy also applies to using our individual free will and talents to improve the lives of those within our sphere of influence, either directly or through charitable organizations we trust.  I’ve read that if all the volunteer time and resources donated by individuals in this country were abdicated to the government, it would be overwhelmed. 

In the final analysis, it all has a lot to do with how we as individuals have helped the poor and underserved, not how we’ve empowered the government to do it for us with other peoples’ money.   

ENCOURAGEMENT

Radiant Sunflower, Jamestown, NC

Sometimes the hardest decision is whether to walk away or try harder.  So, hang in there--Sometimes the most glorious creations thrive in the midst of the biggest pile of manure!

I’ve seen some radiant sunflowers 🌻 in Kansas cattle feedlots!

MY FAVORITE REAR VIEWS

Rearview Gym, High Point, NC

Rearview Hospital, High Point, NC

Rearview Farm Field, NC

The singer songwriter Mac Davis rose on the popular charts in 1980 with the hit song Texas in my Rearview Mirror.  The lyrics reveal the wanderlust of a youth following the impulse of what Joseph Campbell calls following your bliss.  Or to quote Mac in the song, “I thought happiness was Lubbock, Texas in my rearview mirror.”  I too had considered my hometown to be “a great place to be from” where I still return in my mind to recall so many pleasant memories of places, people and events, but I had read enough about the world outside those boundaries that the message in Texas in My Rearview Mirror struck a chord in me that still resonates. 

There’s actually an addiction named Dromomania for people that have an abnormal impulse to travel although wanderlust is strongly embedded in human history.  And studies suggest that these folks tend to be happier, more open minded, and more creative.  A rearview mirror represents the past for many and they wrongly feel hostage to it.  But there’s a good analogy illustrating that the rearview mirrors in all our vehicles are much smaller than our windshields which are designed to look ahead at the opportunity to follow our bliss for the rest of our lives.  I’ve read that we all have a low level of uneasiness about where we are in time because we seem to be wired with the subliminal understanding that our eternal home resides elsewhere in the future.

When I was leaving the gym yesterday and glancing in my rearview mirror, I noticed the reflection of the building in clear focus.  That’s when I got the impulse to circle around and photograph that image because it occurred to me that I always experienced more happiness in leaving that building than entering it!  It’s sort of like the observation that some folks light up a room by entering it and some by leaving it.  If I’ve had a good workout, I will also treat myself to a smoothie which I can rationalize as good for both the body and mind.  So, I purchased a Sunrise Sunset Smoothie and indulged in another happiness of driving to “nowhere in particular” to consume it. 

Although I’ve enjoyed most of the places where my travels have taken me, there are some that are much more enjoyable to leave than enter such as gyms, hospitals and hay fields.  I appreciated all of the people that supported me in those places, but they have always looked better in my rearview mirror!  

And I could have added a few more photos to my rearview series, but the straw in my smoothie cup hit bottom, prompting me to return back to the temporary place where I keep my stuff.

Link to Mac's song:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rXCm4BXJX40

DNLR--DOES NOT LOOK RIGHT

Bugler Boy, Summerfield, NC

There’s an awesome world out there to be explored and experienced, but I’ve learned over the years while traveling across America, parts of Canada, Europe, Israel, Mexico, Costa Rica and Honduras that we also need to be “street smart”.  I’ve met and been privileged to know a multitude of wonderful human beings that have assisted me in growing into the older, somewhat wiser person I am today.  We’ve shared triumphs and some defeats along the way, but every challenge was a learning experience for all of us. 

Yet, we shouldn’t be naïve to the existence of bad people that walk among us.  That means we must be vigilant to our surroundings at all times—not paranoid so much that we’re afraid to leave the house, but alert to anyone that could do us harm.  One past incident I vividly recall involved a night close to the Mexico border where I was walking through a dark parking lot to my rental car.  Just as I entered the car and closed the door, I noticed a hand grab the outside handle and I automatically hit the lock.  The shady looking man shouted that he just needed a ride for one block, but I’m confident he was after something more sinister as I quickly started the car and hit reverse.

I attended a training session one morning a few years ago after the Trustees Committee I served on began reacting to the horrendous school shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary School.  The security consultant spoke all morning on the reality of our time and at the closing, he seared one lesson permanently into my brain; “Brand the letters DNLR on your forehead if you learn nothing else this morning.  If you see something or someone that Does Not Look Right, you need to investigate and/or call 911 immediately.”

I was out driving this Saturday morning into the countryside with a cup of coffee and simply enjoying the ride to nowhere in particular while looking for any photo/blog opportunities.  Suddenly I passed a historical marker that I could only read the title of Bugler Boy.  So, I turned around and drove into a short dead-end gravel road to investigate the area and photograph the sign for later review.  As I exited my vehicle, I noticed an older white pickup had quietly pulled over and was backing into the dead-end road.  I quickly snapped the marker and opened my door, reentered, locked the doors and started the engine.  As I hit reverse and glanced at the driver who had a grim look on his face, he placed the truck in drive and drove off.  The entire short episode Did Not Look Right!

When I returned home and zoomed in on the marker, it told the poignant story of a teenage bugler boy with Light Horse Harry Lee who was chased by Tarleton’s British Dragoons, caught and killed by the sword on this site during the Revolutionary War on February 12, 1781.  He is buried nearby and died too young to gain much street smarts.  I couldn’t help but wonder on this day of February 8, 2020, almost exactly 239 years later, if the wiser spirit of young James Gillies hadn’t alerted me to such a fate.

MIDWINTER HAIKU

Bleak Midwinter, Jamestown, NC

Frosty wind did moan,
In the cold, bleak midwinter.

Earth like hardened iron,

Water like stone, snow on snow.

SHATTERING LIFE LESSONS

Shattered Glass, Greensboro, NC

“Golf is about how well you accept, respond to and score with your misses, much more than it is a game of perfect shots.”  --Dr. Bob Rotella

Over the years I’ve read a couple of the books by sports psychologist, Dr. Bob Rotella. I find that he has some pretty astute observations on the game of golf and life. I particularly like this quote because there are many things in life beyond our control except one thing—how we respond.  We fallible humanoids are anything but perfect and that understanding enables us to admit problems we have created, seek forgiveness, make things right and develop our character as we mature and move on in life.  Golf imitates life and neither are fair. Fair is where clowns, cotton candy and pig judging happen.

Passing by a shattered window a while back triggered a childhood memory of playing baseball with my dad.  He was pitching to me in our backyard and throwing some smoke to work on my developing strike out percentage.  Much to the surprise of both of us, I connected on a fast ball and sent it over our back fence and into our neighbor’s window!  I do believe my initial inclination upon hearing the shattering sound of breaking glass was to just get the heck out of there, while my dad just stood there in shocked amazement. Then he turned to me and calmly stated that we needed to walk over to the neighbors and confess. That seemed a bit too impetuous at the time, but he put his arm around my shoulder and we strode over and admitted our transgression. Then my dad offered to measure the windowpane and replace it for the neighbor.

Many years later, I was playing golf at the invitation of a corporate partner with a group at Pinehurst.  I was riding with a former associate that could hit the golf ball a country mile.  He wasn’t on the tour, however, as many of his drives sailed out of control.  As he teed off on a long par 5, we heard the sound of shattering glass on the horizon amongst the towering pine trees!  We probably could have scurried on down the fairway out of sight, but instead we drove into the pine trees to find a woman standing on her expansive front entry under a shattered transom window holding up a white golf ball.  Some women have likened childbirth to pushing a piano through a transom, but the size of this transom would have made for an easy delivery!  She wasn’t at all upset but remarked that they had lived in the home for years and this was the first time anybody had ever hit the house!  My playing partner immediately produced the company’s insurance information and we hurried on to our next shot

.

These life lessons reinforced the observation that you can never go wrong doing the right thing. That especially applies when something shatters your life and you need to step up to admit your role in a bad situation and work to fix it.   And God will work alongside us to bring good out of any bad situation. For example, our neighbor gave my baseball back to me and the woman gave back the golf ball!

COMING OF AGE

Oh Fudge, A Christmas Story

Many family Christmas traditions involve watching a timeless movie such as It’s a Wonderful Life, National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation or A Christmas Story that loops endlessly during the holiday.  An episode of A Christmas Story triggered a long-ago memory of what I now recognize as one of those coming of age moments in life.  If you think about it, I bet just about everyone can look in the rear view mirror and remember a milestone time when life suddenly became more serious, as you unconsciously began the slow transition from unbridled youth to responsible adulthood.

I don’t particularly agree with a definition for coming of age that specifies an age and/or ceremony that automatically qualifies someone as an adult.  Some examples are a confirmation or bar mitzvah ceremony or reaching the age to enter the military or vote.  I agree that it’s a time when most teenagers mature emotionally.   Coming of age stories tend to focus on internal monologue over action and are often set in the past.  

The Christmas Story scene I was referencing involves the family outing to buy a real tree for the home.  For those of us that can go back that far, artificial Christmas trees weren’t an option and car tires were pretty fragile compared to the tires we ride on today.  It was snowing outside on the drive home when a rear tire lost air pressure forcing Ralphie’s father to pull over and begin changing it out.  Ralphie’s mother suggested that he was old enough to assist his father and was given the assignment to hold the lug nuts in the hub caps we no longer use.  Of course, he dropped them in the snow, but being asked to help his father marked the beginning of Ralphie’s coming of age.

I was around Ralphie’s age one very cold, windy and snowy night close to Christmas when my father exited the house to leave for his job as an engineer on the Santa Fe Railroad.  I had watched my father leave for work many times at all hours of the day, given that the railroad is a 24/7 operation.  For some reason on this night I went to the back door and peered through the frosted window to see that he had not left.  A frigid north wind swirled the heavy snow around our car in the driveway.  I asked my mother why my father would want to go to work on such a terrible night and she softly answered that he had to support our family so that we had a warm house and food on the table.  Up until that moment, I had always taken those things for granted.  She suggested that I bundle up and go outside to see if I could be helpful.  The wind chill went right through my body as I trudged through the gathering snow and asked if I could help my father put on the tire chains he was installing.  He handed me the jack handle he was using to elevate the rear tires.  At least we weren’t changing a tire so I could lose the lug nuts! 

My father then drove off to work into the intense winter storm and I walked back into the warmth of our modest home while coming of age.  My parents’ dream for me was to go to college and I ultimately received a Master’s Degree in Industrial Engineering and a professional career.  I’m certain that even though my work life had many challenges, they never compared to that winter’s night and the memory always sustained me through my own life storms to a peaceful silent night.