In his book, God, if you have a plan for my life, where were you last Thursday?, Jess Moody tells about a couple in the church, Carl & Dorcas Everly.  He writes, “They had two children, & Dorcas was what would now be called a budding soccer mom.  They were about our age, and Doris and I gravitated to them.  They were openhanded and openhearted to us.  We liked them a lot.  They were quite kind to us, and the relationship grew rather rapidly.”  One day Carl called Jess at the church and said, “Jess, it’s Dorcas.  She has cancer at advanced stages and won’t make it for long, they say.”

Jess was called to the hospital and he wondered “what a dying beauty queen would say to me.”  She told him that she had heard him on his radio sermon broadcast and “you said that a day is unto the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years is as a day.”  She went on, “Well, I tried to figure that out, and it seems that if a day is as a thousand years, then an hour is forty years.”

She said, “I will be leaving Carl and the children soon.  He will probably live another forty years.  I will be in heaven when he arrives, and I will say, ‘Carl, where have you been? I haven’t seen you for an hour!  Did you run out to Papa’s farm?’”  She goes on to say, “The children will live, maybe, another eighty years.  That will be two hours for me.  I will greet them, and hug them, and say, ‘Children, how was school today?  When you are gone from me for two hours, I wonder how things are with you.  Mommies don’t like to be away from their children for long.’”

Dorcas died and at the funeral her husband, Carl, told Jess that she had said just before she died, “Carl, I love you.  Take care of my kids.  I’ll see you in an hour.”

“But, beloved, be not ignorant of this one thing, that one day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day.” – II Peter 3:8
 

I am working to digest a chapter in Stephen Covey’s book, The 7 Habits Of Highly Effective People.  Covey challenges us to be “proactive”, to take personal responsibility and action with how we deal with life, and especially with adversity. 

So very many of us play the “blame game”:
(1) We blame genetics, faulting our DNA. 
(2) We blame our parents- our childhood experience has created our present foibles. 
(3) We blame our environment- someone else, something else, is responsible for our problems.

I’ve done it.  Sometimes, when I am truly throwing a “pity party” and I’ve only invited myself to the gathering, I get to thinking that I have been dealt a lousy hand in life.  Others are just lucky- I’m not.  And, of course, it takes just another small whine to blame God.

Covey tells the story of Victor Frankl, a brilliant Jewish psychiatrist imprisoned in the death camps of Nazi Germany.  He was of the tradition of Freudian psychology, which basically ties how we deal with life with childhood experiences.  In the death camps, his life-view was severely challenged, and one cannot imagine the extent of the horrors faced by this gentle man.  His immediate and extended families were sent to the gas ovens, and he faced terrible torture and ridicule, even being forced to shovel the remains from the ovens.

Left naked and alone in a small room, Frankl came to realize there was one thing the torturers could never take from him- his decision, within himself, concerning how all this was going to affect him.  At that moment, he chose to exercise his freedom of self determination.  The Germans could control his body, but not his heart!  He chose to be a kind person- refusing to lose out to bitterness, hatred, and resignation.  He chose to love others- focusing upon the needs of his fellow prisoners, instead of being consumed with self.  It was not easy, involving mental exercises and sometimes refusing to go with his emotions.  But Frankl won the battle.  Even some of the guards came to admire him.

We all have this freedom to choose.  You and I are not victims of life or circumstances.

I’m interested: Have any of you read this very popular book?  Any personal stories of overcoming difficulties of life by exercising your freedom to choose?  Would some of you like to start reading this book with me, and we could discuss it along the way?

TEN THINGS I BELIEVE...in no particular order

“If there is a Hell....the Rev. Fred Phelps had best not die.” (Go ahead, google the name of this sad human being)

“If gays want to marry.... I'm thinking leave them alone.”

“I support the overturning of Roe vs. Wade.... and believe it will happen within the next ten years.”

“The cost of gasoline.... will plummet at least three months before elections.”

“United Flight 93, the movie....left me shaken to the core and angry.”

“There will come a time....in the not-too-distant-future, when many of these big beautiful houses in the affluent suburbs where I live will be left desolate and in disrepair.”

“Someone will blow up.... the nuclear reactors in Iran.”

“Receiving a “bridge and crown”.... is not a fun procedure.”

“A third-party candidate.... could very well be elected as the next president of the United States.”

“Maybe the answer to world peace....is a good dentist, for so many of these terrorists truly have bad teeth.”

We've just celebrated Mother's Day, a time to recognize the nobility of motherhood.  But, what does a person do if he has a bad mother?

Edmund is such a person.  He is a teenager in our church, and really a good kid.  I've baptized him, and often talked with him about the Lord and spiritual matters.  He sings in the choir.  His mom is a consummate alcoholic and drug abuser.  She has a filthy vocabulary.  She steals cars and spends lots of time in jail, and in the arms of men who will support her habits.  And she does not deserve a son like Edmund.  His salvation has been his Aunt, who has raised and loved him since infancy.  He will get fighting mad if anyone dares to say something about his mom.  But he knows.  And in quiet times of special talk, he thanks his Aunt for loving him.  He has some hard times ahead, for no doubt he will grow to greatly resent this woman who claims the title of “mom” when all she really did was get knocked up by some fellow drug user. 

And, that's a bad mom.

Most people who carry an ongoing resentment toward their parents have encountered nothing like this sad excuse for a mother.  Chances are, their parents are basically good people who have made an earnest effort to love their child.  Yes, good people who have sometimes done some bad parenting.

Some dads and moms go at this thing without ever having a good role model for themselves.  I've told you that my dad was emotionally absent from his family, and died when I was ten.  And my step-father never even pretended to be my parent.  So I've had to struggle with this thing, and sometimes I would like some appreciation from my kids for at least making a good effort.

Some dads and moms have some real struggles of their own, so no wonder they mess up in the parenting business.  Some men do not know the first thing about gentleness and kindness.  Others just cannot provide financial ease, or even stability.  And lots of good people just make poor choices when it comes to a mate, and so the kids suffer big-time.  None of these are “bad” people.  And they probably love their kids.  They just mess up.

So, I am calling on kids, even middle-aged and above, to give their bumbling parents a break.  If you know that he/she truly loves you, and would never intentionally hurt you, then you need to let go of resentment and grant the gift of forgiveness.  Maybe the possibility of an idyllic childhood was never realized.  But, how about a special friendship with mom or dad?  Probably, he/she truly feels sorrow for past behaviour, and is looking for opportunity to start over.  And it would be neat if you felt the same way.  Thus, there lies ahead for the both of you the possibility for something really good and life-affirming.

I think a parent who really tries, even though he may mess up, deserves our respect.  And, our love...and friendship.

Let me tell you about my mom; she is truly an amazing person.

Mom & Marriage
She married as soon as she turned 18, to a man over twice her age.  I've asked her why.  Mom has always been quite honest, and that is something I have come to admire about her, and she told me she married just to get out of the house.  Not love.  Now, that's straight-talk!  She and dad were not too happy together.  It seems he had an adversity toward work, and help around the house, etc.  Mom busied herself raising three boys, and took in ironing for extra money, and took a job as a waitress.  Dad died when I was 10, and mom just kept on raising her kids.

Mom & Hard Work
Mom has always been one to work hard and keep moving.  She has been married 4 times, and at age 86 tells me she has finally found happiness.  She deserves it.  She has always struggled financially, and often been disappointed with love, but she has never quit.  I never remember hearing mom whine, or stay home from work because of the blues.  Life would get heavy, but she was always stronger.

Mom worked at the Coffee Shop of the local hospital while I was growing up.  As I remember, she made $2.12 an hour with no tips.  Her supervisor was her sister-in-law Rita Mae, and the two did not like one another.  And she stayed with it for over 20 years, until the place was shut down.  She worked second shift, and I believe she never missed a day of work.  I remember the Guidance Counsellor at school telling me that she was amazed at how well my mom was able to take care of me on such limited income.  At the time I did not think much about it.  Now I do.  I graduated from High School when most of the kids around me did not.  And, about the same time mom got her GED in her early 50's, I graduated from College.  It has seemed to be natural to me to work hard and seek to live a life of value.  And I owe it to mom.

I went to see her this last week.  She was sitting on the sofa reading a book- she is always reading.  I took her and John out to eat, and then I helped them pick up some lawn furniture at the local department store.

Mom Is A Liberal...And You Better Like It!
Did I tell you my mom is a religious liberal?  Oh, she would probably be insulted if she heard me use the term.  She has been a member of Southeast Baptist Church since her teens, but she never attends church.  Yet, she insistes that things are alright between her and God.  She tells me she does not like most church people- although she quickly adds, for my benefit, that she likes the people at my church!  Others are haughty and often superficial.  I asked her to define a Christian.  Without hesitation, she said a Christian is someone who is kind and loving, and treats others with respect.  I was going to debate with her by talking about the need to be born again, but then I thought that she was really giving a pretty good description of Jesus.    I don't think mom reads the Bible very much.  I guess it is just a book to her.  But she insists that she prays, and often.  And, when I start talking about absolutes (political, religious), she just rolls her eyes and changes the subject.  I thought about how amazingly accepting and open she was to my daughter's pregnancy.  Apparently, mom is not into judging others and condemnation.  Oh, and there are some Mormons who stop by her house periodically.  I tell her to watch out, that they are trying to convert her.  She says they are such nice boys, and that she likes to offer them a glass of tea and talk about nice things. 

Mom lives in a black neighborhood, and it does not phase her one bit.  She likes to give ice cream and cookies to boys and girls who play all around the house.  She is fast becoming quite popular with these little ones.  Mom grew up with Jim Crow laws, and Ku Klux Klan rallies down the street.  But she never taught me to be prejudice.  I remember Mr. Hun Reed, a coal black man who lived across the street from where we grew up.  I think dad did not like him.  And I think mom often took a plate of hot food over to this old bachelor.  Mom modeled racial acceptance for me way before it was popular in the deep South.

Thanks, Mom
So I owe my heart to this hard-working, kind, liberal, loving woman that I call Mom.  I really know how to love God only because love was modeled so well by this amazing person.  And I love her dearly.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom.

An Unfinished Life was briefly in theatres late in 2005, and grossed less than ten million dollars. 

I was mildly disappointed when my wife came home with the DVD and wanted to spend our evening watching it.  I told her I would give it a chance, and if it disappointed then I would find something else to do.  And I was predisposed to not like it because of Robert Redford.  He is a great actor but a lousy political spokesperson.  But, it only took about ten minutes for me to be hooked on the movie.  The scenery is beautiful, I understand being the Canadian Rockies.  The acting is very good.  Redford is precise and wonderfully understated; his every move and word seem to be natural.  Morgan Freeman is the best.  And for Jennifer Lopez acting is optional, because she is so beautiful.  Most of all, the story is methodical and increasingly engaging.  Like any good movie, I found myself sympathizing with the characters and anxious to know what will happen next. 

An Unfinished Life is about lives that have been stunted, and thus "unfinished", because of tragic events.  For Redford's character, Einar, it is the loss of a son to a car accident.  He becomes a bitter hermit and an alcoholic, intent to mourn away the rest of his life on a dilapidated ranch.  For Lopez, her husband was this same man.  Now for ten years she has moved through several abusive relationships, and is escaping yet another when she finds herself asking Einar for help.  He does not like her, even blaming her for his son's death.  For fellow ranch-hand Freeman, his life has been interrrupted by critical injury from a bear.  We later discover this happened because Einar was too drunk to help.  The movie deals with the process of these characters, as each comes to peace with his/her unfinished matters of life.  It is slow, deliberate, and I think a very nice development of the stories.  Redford is good; you can feel his pain, and anger, and kind release as he comes to love his grandaughter and her mother.  Lopez is good, especially as you realize that her beauty does not shield her from her pain.  And when she smiles- wow, what can I say, but that the whole screen lights up.  And Morgan Freeman is always good; so gentle and natural with his performance.  I think he is at his best when he is a costar to a quality actor.

So many of us are tempted to live out the title to this movie.  Loved ones die.  Tragedies happen.  People deeply disappoint- even God can inflict deep injuries.  How very natural it happens that we can find ourselves living with bitterness and unforgiveness.  Sometimes we find ourselves feeding and nursing the very hurts we need to let die.  It sounds crazy, but sometimes it seems we like being injured- like Lopez's character who inexplicably gravitates to abusive men.  Of course, no one enjoys being punched in the face.  So why do some people insist upon hanging onto grief, anger, and hatred?  This simple movie tells us it is time to let go.  It is time...to forgive...to let others love us once again...to face our fears...to give someone another chance.  And, that "someone" just may be ourselves. 

What is Hotblogs?  

One would think it to be a listing of the very best sites on T-blog.  I have no idea what the official criteria would be for judging the order of the blogs.  But, I would think it would involve most of the following factors:
*Number of real (as opposed to the mysterious who-knows-what clicks from cyberspace) hits from fellow bloggers
*Number of comments received
*Frequency of personally-produced blogs.  By this I mean self-created, not the cut-and-paste variety
*Quality of content of these blogs (Subjectively determined, of course.  But, most of us know an interesting blog when we read one)
*Participation in the T-blog community by regularly leaving at least semi-thoughtful comments on the blogs of others, and periodically logging into t-blurt

I hang out here on T-blog a good bit, and while none of us will probably ever win a Pulitzer, I think we have some interesting writers.  I'll name a few, although of course this is not exhaustive:

Some of My Favorites on T-blog: 

Tabootenente - I often wonder “what the heck” he is saying, but he is probably the best academic blogger in our bunch.
Surrogate - my favorite 60's liberal
DrForbush - smart guy...very convincing, and he challenges well with my comments without ever resorting to personal attack
ScubaDiva - I'll make a social conservative out of her, yet!
eraserhead667 - a wild guy, fun to read, surprisingly thoughtful sometimes
Rand - always positive, always gently nudging, I'll bet this guy is a great football coach
bacardibreezer - sweet girl, nice car, sometimes embarassing
Mimi - been through some challenging times, great attitude
toztee - new to blogging, I think we have some things in common
guerillafunk - my favorite teenage blogger

There's others.  Teenagers who are frank, amazingly transparent.  A few artists who display their works.  Some religious writers with whom I sometimes connect and sometimes disagree.  So it's a great community.

Back to Hotblogs. 

Currently I'm # 62.  I will never be in the top 20, because my chosen subject matter is admittedly of limited appeal, and also because I would not want the pressure of trying to represent the elite of T-blog.  But I'd like to see if I could move up into the top 30.  I think I'll try to write a new blog, daily, for about 2 weeks and see what happens.  It would be a shameless attempt at self-promotion, but most of us have done worse.

Check out the guys in the top-6. 
#1 - adfunk
I was thinking that was a Jewish shophar for his avatar, but closer examination reveals a flashlight.  The articles are cut-and-paste from wikipedia.  Comments not allowed.  I don't know adfunk personally, but I think it to be a clear effort at advertising revenue.  Does this really represent the best of T-blog?

#2 - bedava
Cool picture.  Is the language Russian?  And I am sure all two of our Russian bloggers really like it.  Again, no place for comments.

#4 - theauctionboard
News about online auctions.  Surprisingly funny.  No comments.  As far as I know, no interaction with fellow bloggers.  Is this #4 in T-blog land?  I don't think so!

#6 - Danu9
My least favorite blog in all the universe.  Just a pollution of T-blog of cut-and-paste arcane Jewish writing.  If someone checks this out and thinks it s representative of religious blogging, then he would never give the rest of us a chance.  And now, perhaps with intent, the site locks up my computer and so I have to reboot.  And this blog represents the sixth most popular offering on T-blog?

How about helping me with a shameless attempt at self-promotion, to move me up the ladder on HotBlogs? 

Pretend to read my daily posts.  Just skim through if you would like.  Leave comments.  They don't have to be pertinent or make sense, or even be legible.  Just say something.  And tell others they could win a million dollars just by logging onto my blog.  They won't but it could be good for a few rungs up the ladder.  A similar approach has gotten people elected to higher office!

It is not that often, but it happens.  I will be sound asleep, when all of a sudden, I am wide awake.  It is almost as if someone has shaken me awake.  All is dark and all is quiet.  The mind is clear.  And I used to fight this thing by turning over and trying to go back to sleep.  What would ensue would be a long time of tossing and turning.  Now I go ahead and get out of bed, because I know there is work to do.

Mostly I am rather practical with my faith.  But with this matter I am a mystic.  I believe God shakes me from my sleep at night so I can pray.  And such is a strange compliment to me.  I do not know why He wants or needs my prayers; after all, He is God.  But I comply.

I get up.  First I let the dog out so he can take care of business.  Then I pour myself a glass of tea; no coffee for this guy.  And then I sit down and pray.  Names and faces race through the mind: People I know who have been struggling...Those I believe God has brought to cross my pathway in the last several days...Hurting people.  And I know a lot of them- it is my business to know.

Eventually I settle into a more mysterious prayer.  This person I cannot picture her face, or his specific need.  I just sense that my prayers are needed.  So I ask God to protect, strengthen, help, and save.  A good bit of time is spent focusing upon the connection of God and this unknown friend.  I wonder if I will ever be allowed to know the specifics.  And I wonder if someone, sometime, gets up in the middle of the night to pray for me?

It is a simple thing in some ways.  You may attribute it to indigestion or insomnia.  I believe it is God.  And I try to listen.