Afraid Of The Dark

Ever find yourself suddenly awake, but not too much so, and you can’t remember where you are?  On a trip somewhere and at a relative’s house or a hotel when you wake up and a brief feeling of panic sets in until you orient yourself as to where you are?

Ever Afraid Of The Dark?

Tuck your head under the covers to get away, to hide from some unknown monster, real or imagined, lurking over you, hot breath on your neck, your cheek?  Perhaps keeping the door open just a bit to keep you aware and connected to others in other parts of the house?  Perhaps a nightlight, safe and friendly, to reassure you that all is well, to help you find your way should you wake up in the dark?

Todd was a student of mine many, many years ago.  Tough life.  A life he never spoke to others about.  Well, at least not too many others.  A ninth grader.  Oldest of three, with a younger brother and an even younger sister.  Lived in an apartment with his parents.  Didn’t have much, but didn’t complain.  Never heard him complain.  Never.

Todd always kept his door open with a nightlight on in the hallway.  Always.  All of the time he was in high school.

Todd wasn’t Afraid Of The Dark.  At least, not for himself.  Mostly, he was afraid for his younger brother and sister.  Afraid for them.

Most nights, especially on weekends, Todd’s father would come home drunk, usually late at night, and find some reason to beat up his wife, Todd’s mother.  She would distract him, while Todd would scramble to his brother’s and sister’s rooms, gather them up, and together, they would hide under one of the beds.  Todd would hold them, whisper to them, protect them. The youngest might fall asleep.  Perhaps the younger brother.  But not Todd.  Not until all was safe.  Not until Todd was sure his brother and sister were safe.  Because after his father tired of his mother, he would seek out Todd or Todd’s brother or sister.

Afraid Of The Dark.

Who knows what might linger in the dark for us . . . for others.  Who knows what monster might be out there waiting, lurking with hot breath on our neck, our cheek.  Who knows how many sleepless nights there are for those around us.  Worries of bills piling up and not enough money to pay them off.  Worries about a college-aged son or daughter and what choices . . . what chances . . . they might make, might have.  Worries about the health of a loved one . . . a husband, a wife, a son, a daughter, a parent.  Worried about their own health . . . impending death . . . and how that might impact their own loved ones.

Afraid Of The Dark.

Many reasons why there might be a nightlight in the room, in the hallway.  Many reasons why one pulls the covers over one’s head.  To hide.  To protect.  And, there are many whose lives are not as ordered, not as safe, not as protected as ours might be.  Eating lunch next to us.  Answering the phone as you call to complain.  Sitting at the desk next to you.  In the room down the hall.  Sitting at the desk in front of you.  Walking down the hallway alone, with shoulders hunched, silently waging a battle you might not ever know about, might not ever understand.  But very much Afraid Of The Dark.  Very much so.  Something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

Storms (reposted)

I love thunderstorms.  As a kid, I’d sit on our front porch and watch the clouds open up and the rain pound the ground.  I was fascinated (still am) by the drill and flash of lightning and the force of the wind.  The sheer power of a storm was something to marvel at.  There was a particular smell that to this day, I associate with a good old fashion thunderstorm.  It is like no other smell that I can compare it to.  As I recall, my mom was not too enamored with me outside during a thunderstorm, especially when lightning was present and in retrospect, she was probably right.  I know that now as a parent, I make sure my kids are inside and safe.

I remember driving on an interstate in Wisconsin during one summer when the rain and storm was so intense, I had no visibility- none whatsoever.  I couldn’t see.  I didn’t know what, if anything, was in front of me.  I didn’t know what, if anything, was behind me.  I didn’t know where the side of the road was for me to pull off in order to stop and let the storm pass.  I was stuck.  There were three small children in the backseat, my wife in the front seat next to me, and I was behind the wheel.  I didn’t know where to turn, if I should turn and I knew that if I made one misstep, my wife and kids could be harmed.  I crept forward ever so slowly until I came to an overpass that provided brief shelter.  It was crowded because many other drivers and a few drenched motorcyclists wanted the same protection.  Somehow, we made room for one another.

Storms happen.  Sometimes they come out of nowhere.  Sometimes they are of our own creation.  Sometimes we find ourselves in the middle of a storm created by someone else.  At times, we see no apparent way out, blinded by the swirl of chaos around us.  We can’t find a way forward.  We can’t see a way out.  Other times, there is that brief respite that gives a modicum of shelter and protection until it is safe to move forward once again.  And always, there will be a time when it is safe to move forward.  Always.  It may take time.  There is panic and fear.  There is concern for yourself and for others, perhaps loved ones.  But always, there will be a time when it is safe to move forward.  Always.  Something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

Exist Or Live?

Part of Kim’s and my honeymoon was spent in a hospital.  True story.

We were camping with some of my family members way up in Northern Wisconsin and Kim had to have an emergency appendectomy.  In the middle of the night, I ran to get two of my sisters, both nurses, and we drove 30 miles or so to a small town and the nearest hospital.  A 40 bed hospital . . . yes, 40 beds.  It was that tiny.  Kim was the youngest by light years!  Frankly, it seemed to be more of a holding tank for the very elderly.  More like a cross between a nursing home and hospital.  Except for Kim.

Down the hall was a very ancient lady who spent the days in bed in a prone position staring at the ceiling.  Someone, not sure who, came in everyday and read her Bible passages.  She never left her bed and to be honest, when I would peek in her room from time to time, it didn’t seem she had moved.  Another lady right across the hall was informed by her sons and daughters that she was leaving the hospital to go to a nursing home.  She cried and protested, but the family thought it was best.  It was all very sad.

I bring this story up because of a conversation I had with my niece, Jodi, when we gathered together to celebrate the birthday of my 99 year old mother this past week. 

Jodi told the story about her 80 year old aunt, Frannie.  She plays golf.  She rides a bike long distances.  She gets together frequently with friends.  Goes shopping.  Plays cards.  Frannie is also nearly paralyzed on the right side of her body from a stroke.  She also has seepage in her brain stem that cannot be repaired due to where it is located.  Frannie describes herself as a “ticking time bomb”.  She could die any minute, any day, any night.

But . . . Frannie made a decision to Live rather than merely Exist.

To Exist Or Live.

Today is the last day of the year, New Year’s Day. 

Many of us will choose to make resolutions and promises and decisions.  Most of those might last a day or so, maybe a week or two.  Some perhaps longer.  A few might make it through the year.  A few. Very few.

To Exist Or Live.

It seems to me that a worthwhile resolution or decision might be to make a deliberate, conscious choice to Live rather than to merely Exist. 

I think we’ve seen both.  I think we’ve crossed paths with those who Exist rather than Live.

Those who Exist are tired.  They go through the motion.  They lack passion.  They lack vitality.  They move from day to day, week to week, through life, through love, in a rut, in a routine. If I were to give them a color, I’d choose gray.

And then . . .

There are those who Live.  They grab at life.  They push themselves.  They laugh more.  Cry more.  Feel more.  There is energy.  Their minds are active.  There is clarity in their eyes, their speech.  They listen.  I would color them anything bright, but not gray.

It seems to me that a worthwhile resolution for each of us . . . for both you and I . . . would be to make the choice to Live rather than to Exist.  To Live fully, completely.  Embracing all that life has to give, to offer.  To make the most of it for ourselves, and to help those around us to make the most of it for themselves.  Helping each other to Live rather than Exist.  Is there really a choice?  Really?  Something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

 

After The Party

Just a few cookies remain. A bit of ham.  Presents mostly tucked away.  Gift cards and gift cash spent or planned for.  Next step is to take down the decorations and take the tree to the curb.

Of course, this is after we drive the almost 1,000 miles home. 

Tired.  Worn out.  Bushed. 

Funny how that cycle of emotion ebbs and flows.  From the Anticipation I wrote about just last Tuesday, to now, the feeling of Tiredness.  Up, then Down.

The kids spent the night with childhood friends.  Friends they hadn’t seen in ages.  The house was too quiet last night.  Quite the departure from the hustle and bustle of just a day or so ago when there were more cousins and aunts and uncles around that filled the little house with noise, and laughter, and joy, and stories that brought even more laughter.

After The Party.  Time to recharge.

But . . .

We can’t lose, mustn’t lose the feeling of joy we brought to others.  The joy that was in their eyes, in their voices.  We can’t lose the joy we brought not only to others, but to ourselves because of our giving, because of trying to create and carve out joy for others in sometimes an uncaring world that sometimes brings careless words and careless actions into our lives. 

A time for rest.  A time to recharge. 

But then, to begin anew to create joy, to bring joy to others, and thereby creating joy, bringing joy to ourselves.  To our world and to those who depend upon us for this very thing.  Something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

'Twas The Night Before . . .

Aren’t you just a little excited?  A little?  Maybe a lot?  Have to admit, I am.

A little bit of shopping and wrapping to do, but that’s okay.  Last minute stuff.  To be expected. 

Today, we drive Emily to visit a childhood friend.  Been friends forever, it seems and the only time they get together is this time of year when we travel back home.  (Funny that after five or six years, I still call Wisconsin home.)  Hannah visits her old friends later in the week and again, the only time she really gets to spend time with them. 

Tomorrow, family drifts in so we’re all together again.  Only time that happens, except for weddings and funerals, right?  Then, we head to church- one of my favorite services.  Look forward to it each year.

In the next few days, I’ll drive my family to my brother’s house for a visit.  We’ll stop in and see my mom and spend time for her.  She turns 99.  Pretty cool to be that old.  Saw a lot.  Saw much.  Lived it too.  And we’ll see more family and visit and talk and reminisce and catch up.  Lots of stories.  Retold many times, over and over.  Doesn’t get old, at least for me.

Anticipation.

As kids, we looked forward to the presents.  What did we get?  Who got what?  Whose stack is biggest?

As an adult, I like the presents, but I like to watch everyone open their presents up.  Mostly, I like the visits, the laughter, the stories.  And of course, the food.  Lots of it.  Way more than I need.

Anticipation.

A really good word.  A nice word.  One of expectation, of expecting.  A word of mystery, of surprise, of suspense. 

What’s around the corner?  What’s in store?  What’s down the road, around the bend?  What’s in the future?  What are the plans? 

Anticipation.

May your surprises, your mysteries be good to you.  May they be joyous.  May they bring you laughter.  May they bring a tear or two so you can appreciate the good we have, we see, we share.  May your surprises bring you hope and of course, love.  May you recognize the small, as well as the big.

May each of you find all you need and so much more.  May there always be love in your heart, a sparkle in your eyes, a kind word on your tongue, warmth in your heart.  May there always be someone to stand with you, beside you.  May there always be someone to lend a hand when it gets hard, a word of encouragement when you feel like giving up, light when you might not know your way.  And may each of us be all of that to others.  Each of us.  Something to think about . . .  today, each day, always.

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

A Need To Be Peace

Growing up in the Midwest, especially as a youngster (more than many moons ago), I couldn’t wait until the first snowflake fell.  There is a silence that takes place.  It is quiet.  Depending upon the size of the snowflakes, if one listens closely, you can hear snowflakes fall upon branches of trees.  If you listen closely, you can hear their gentle touch upon the window.  It is truly Peaceful.

So many times during the holiday season . . . any holiday season . . . sentiments of Peace are expressed.  People talk about the Peace and Joy of the Season . . . the Peace and Serenity of Christmas.  It brings a smile to my face and lightens my heart.  It’s a great feeling.  There’s joy and the expression, I believe, is intentional.  There is sincerity in that expression.

I’m not sure where I heard it or read it, where the idea was expressed, that Peace isn’t a feeling.  Peace isn’t a circumstance or situation.  Peace isn’t an expression.

Instead, Peace is a way of speaking, a way of behaving, a way of listening.  It was expressed that Peace needs to be more than wished for, and more importantly, Peace isn’t something to attain, to gain, to have.

Peace cannot be expected to last unless and until Peace is lived.

Peace Cannot Be Expected To Last Unless And Until Peace Is Lived!

Khalil Gibran wrote, “No one can find inner peace except by working, not in a self- centered way, but for the whole human family.”  Gibran also wrote, “When you find peace within yourself, you become the kind of person who can live at peace with others.”

So . . .

I would like each of us, this Peaceful season, to contemplate how we think, how we speak, how we act, how we listen.  I would like each of us to consider that there is A Need To Be Peace.  In our lives.  With each other.  For each other.  I would like each of us to consider that Peace is more than a feeling.  Peace is certainly more than a sentiment, an expression no matter how sincere, no matter how much joy that expression brings.

I believe Peace is a way of life.  And . . . if each of us considers that Peace is a way of living, a way of speaking, a way of thinking, a way of listening, how much better will our relationships be!  With ourselves . . . with each other . . . with those whose lives we touch day in and day out.  Perhaps then, we can achieve what we’ve only expressed up until now.  Peace.  It’s something to think about . . .Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

God Doesn't Make Mistakes!

Most every Monday evening, my family and I watch Monday Night Football.  It really doesn’t matter who plays.  We just like football.

I found last evening inspiring.

Now that I got your attention, I realize an 18-16 score game isn’t exciting, especially when our favorite team wasn’t playing.  But I was inspired nonetheless.

Before the game, during all the commentary about who should win, who won’t win, why they will win, and why they won’t, there was a piece . . . a segment . . . on Joey.

A little girl who died at Sandy Hook Elementary School while she and her class were celebrating her birthday.  Almost her entire class was murdered.  A tragic loss.

What inspired me was her story.  How her parents reacted.  Their devastating and tragic loss.  A stupid and senseless loss.  My wife and I wept.

But in the aftermath, what followed, was that a playground was built in her honor.  There was an inscription . . . I wish I could remember the entirety of it and I’m afraid I can’t, I’m very sorry I can’t . . . but the inscription was something to the effect of “Joey can’t be here, but she wants you to play.”  And her mother said, that Joey spent most of her life playing.  Playing on a playground.  And when the idea came up from a fireman to build a playground in her memory, her mother stated, “Yes.  Someone who gets it.”  And as she said it, she smiled and looked up.  She looked up and it was a beautiful smile.  I won’t forget that.  Not ever.

And while her story was so moving, it was Ray Lewis, the retired linebacker and leader of the Ravens who tied it all together for me.

He sent a letter to the family and that letter has come to mean so much to the family.  When Ray Lewis was asked to explain why he sent the letter to the family . . . and again, I’m not at all doing justice to him, to his thoughts, to his meaning, nor to the memory and impact that Joey had on, well, most everyone, especially me, he said, “God Doesn’t Make Mistakes.”

God Doesn’t Make Mistakes.

I needed to hear that.

I wrote two posts recently, Inconvenienced By Tragedy and Final Applause, that spoke to the death of my nephew and its impact on my extended family . . . the impact on me.  Ray Lewis’ statement, “God Doesn’t Make Mistakes!” pretty much summed it up a heck of a lot better than I could.  Than I did.

You see, he explained that evil is all around us.  All around us.  But God has a way of using that evil . . . a tragedy . . . to bring about some good.  To bring an impact in our lives . . . in the lives of others.

Gang, I’m not a great philosopher.  I write words and most of the time, I hope and pray they spring from my heart.  Sometimes I fall flat on my face.  Sometimes . . . I hope most times . . . I manage to rise above the floor a little bit.

But, while you and I might not ever know of the good that springs from evil . . . God might turn an evil around and into something good . . . I truly believe, like Ray Lewis does, that God Doesn’t Make Mistakes.  Not ever.  No way.  There might always be evil in the world.  Unfortunately, always.  Yet, I honestly believe . . . deep in my soul, deep in my heart of hearts . . . that there will always be good.  And, I believe more importantly, good will always trump evil.  Always!  I might not understand it.  I may not see it in my lifetime.  But I believe that good will always trump evil.  Because in the end, God Doesn’t Make Mistakes.  That is something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!