Appreciate The Large And The Small

Last night I made a pot of chili. It’s one of my favorite dishes, and my family likes it, too. Generally, it’s spicy and on the hot side, which is just right for Hannah and me, kinda sorta all right for Emily, and too hot for Kim. But honestly, I don’t know how else to make it.

My idea of cooking is to throw stuff in the pot. I never measure any of the ingredients, but rather, just dump. My tendency towards various peppers and spices gets me in trouble with Kim. Sorry about that.

But the best part of the meal, any meal really, is the conversation and the laughter that takes place around the table. A lot of laughter. Even after the meal has been eaten, we sit around amongst the dirty dishes, the used glasses and silverware, and share stories and laugh.

I have to tell you that our youngest, Emily, is kind of a split personality. Don’t be fooled by her! She presents herself as reserved and quiet, actually rather serious. A deep thinker and concentrated observer of the Large And The Small that takes place around her. But, she is the comedian of the family. She takes everything in and spills it out with a catchy comment that makes us burst out laughing. She and Hannah can resemble Laurel and Hardy at times, much to Kim’s and my delight.

And while the conversation and laughter around the dinner table doesn’t seem like much, it has become one of my favorite things in life. Much like as adults, sitting around the living room exchanging stories and jokes and catching up with brothers and sisters, or as a kid, listening to the conversations that took place amongst the older group. All the “Remember when’s” and the “How about the time when . . .” All of that.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to Appreciate The Large And The Small in my life. Mostly The Small.

I love sunrises and sunsets. I love walking in the school cafeteria at lunch listening to the conversations of the kids. Sometimes I join in, other times, I listen as I stroll by. I enjoy music. All kinds, really, except for the type of jazz that has an improbable melody or doesn’t know when to end. I love food and that’s probably why I look the way I do. I like pictures and paintings of quiet forests, of trails and of roads that seem to disappear that make me wonder what lies around the bend. I like the fluffy cotton ball clouds that float in a blue sky. I like rugged mountain scenes forested in green or snow capped.

I like books that take me away to unknown places with characters that become real to me. I like movies that keep me guessing and on the edge of my seat.

I like the peace and quiet of early mornings, sitting alone in the family room doing, well, nothing.

And as I get older and walk along the downward slope of the mountain, I’ve come to Appreciate those individuals who walked into my life and made a difference, who caused me to laugh, who made me think. I’ve come to Appreciate those individuals who have encouraged me to continue, to keep moving forward. I’ve come to Appreciate those individuals who have lent me a hand to lift me up time and time again. I’ve come to Appreciate those individuals who gave me a shoulder to lean on, an ear for listening, and most of all, their presence when I needed to be with and around someone.

Seems like each of us has something to be thankful for. Seems like each of us can find something to Appreciate, Large And Small. We just have to look- not so much with our eyes as much as with our heart. Because I believe it is with the heart that we come to Appreciate The Large And The Small that make up our lives. Something to think about . . .

To My Readers:

My new book, the third and final book of The Lives Trilogy, Splintered Lives, is now available on Amazon, free with Kindle Unlimited. The paperback version should be coming shortly.  The synopsis is as follows:

It began on the Navajo Indian Reservation when a fourteen year old boy, George Tokay, witnessed and reported the murder of a Caucasian boy his own age. Kelliher and his team of FBI agents solved that crime, which led to the freedom of thirty boys who were abducted off safe suburban streets and held in captivity, some for more than two years. The FBI thought the boys were safe and so did their parents. After all, arrest warrants were served and members of the human trafficking ring were arrested. That is, except for three dangerous men with absolutely nothing to lose.

These three men arrange for a handsome reward if fourteen year old Brett, one of the boys who had been held captive, is killed. Brett has no idea that he, his younger brother, and his friend, another former captive, are targets. But more than anyone else, these three men vow revenge on George, whom they blame for forcing them to run and go into hiding. What was to be a fun-filled vacation with his newly adopted family, turns into a nightmare and ends where it started, back on the Navajo Indian Reservation high up on a mesa held sacred by George and his grandfather.

Outnumbered and out gunned, George is willing to make the ultimate sacrifice, but can he protect his father and his brothers from these dangerous men before that happens? Can he save them without knowing who these men are or where they might be? Or when they might attack? Can George trust his friends whom he reaches out to for help? Is he prepared for betrayal that leads to his heartbreak and possible death?

Splintered Lives can be found at:

http://www.amazon.com/Splintered-Lives-Trilogy-Book-ebook/dp/B017RFXY9Y/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1447079283&sr=1-1&keywords=Splintered+Lives%2C+Joseph+Lewis

Brave And Tough

I don’t consider myself a particularly brave person.  I don’t consider myself to be a particularly tough person.  I think there have been situations and circumstances in my life where I might have performed bravely.  But those are situational, not the norm.

I remember a time back years ago as a counselor in California.  There was a shooting at lunch time on our high school campus.  Fortunately, no one died, though there were injuries.  And, the shooter was eventually caught and brought to justice.  But I remember talking to another staff member when we both heard the gunshots.  We looked at each other and broke into a run . . . towards the shooting, towards the sound of the gunshots. 

It wasn’t planned.  It was just reactive.  Both of us were concerned about the safety of the students and the safety of the staff.  Neither of us thought about our own safety, nor did anyone else who had responded.  As I said, it was in reaction to what we both knew we heard.

I think of those three brave men on the French train.  These young men, two U.S. Marines and a Brit likely saved dozens of lives when a Moroccan man opened fire aboard a train from Belgium to Paris.  I think of 9-11 and Flight 93.  Because of the actions of the 40 passengers and crew aboard that plane, the attack on the U.S. Capitol was thwarted. In so doing, they lost their lives to save others.  In both cases, I think they were pretty brave and pretty tough.

I wrote in one of my posts quite some time ago about a young man I knew, Khalid.  I was his counselor and I never knew the struggles he had until he had graduated: living in a home where he wasn’t wanted; sleeping on the floor night after night all through high school; not necessarily receiving the support he so deserved from his father and step-mother as he went through school.  Yet, Khalid graduated and attended college on a football scholarship.  He became a counselor and is now an administrator.  He’s married to a beautiful young lady and together have two beautiful kids.

That takes courage to move throughout the day, each day, each week, month and year to achieve in spite of all the obstacles in his path.  Pretty brave.  Pretty darn tough.

I think of another student, Beth, who was an honor student.  Her family was homeless.  She slept in hotels when her family could afford one, otherwise it was a car or a shelter.  At times depending upon where it was when she went to bed, she would wear long sleeved shirts and slacks to bed with rubber bands on the cuffs to keep cockroaches from getting in her clothes.  She would study by flashlight when the electricity was cut off, and as I said, she was an honor student.  And each day in spite of all she went through, she would come to school and smile and work.

Like Khalid, it took courage to move throughout the day, each day, each week, month and year to achieve in spite of all the obstacles in her path.  Pretty brave.  Pretty darn tough.

Both are tougher, and both are braver than I’ll ever be.  Both are tougher, and both are braver than most anyone I know.

I think of the great philosophers, Winnie the Pooh and Christopher Robbin.  Christopher said to Winnie, “Promise me you’ll always remember that you’re braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.”

What a nice philosophy to impart to our children!  What a really nice philosophy to impart to each other! 

I think kids need that reminder from time to time.  I think each of us needs that reminder from time to time.  Sometimes kids, and each of us, are faced with what seem like insurmountable obstacles in our paths that prevent us from moving forward.  Sometimes these obstacles are of our own creation.  Sometimes these obstacles are created for us by others or by the situation or circumstance we find ourselves in.  So a reminder that we are “braver than we believe, stronger than we seem, and smarter than we think” is always good, always welcome.  And, perhaps we might offer a hand to lift up, a shoulder to lean on, and a smile along with a word of encouragement.  Always welcome.  Something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

To My Readers:

At last Splintered Lives, Book Three of The Lives Trilogy debuts on Amazon on Monday, November 9 on Kindle and Kindle Unlimited, and shortly thereafter in paperback.  The synopsis is as follows:

It began on the Navajo Indian Reservation when a fourteen year old boy, George Tokay, witnessed and reported the murder of a Caucasian boy his own age. Kelliher and his team of FBI agents solved that crime, which led to the freedom of thirty boys who were abducted off safe suburban streets and held in captivity, some for more than two years. The FBI thought the boys were safe and so did their parents. After all, arrest warrants were served and members of the human trafficking ring were arrested. That is, except for three dangerous men with absolutely nothing to lose.

These three men vow revenge on George, whom they blame for forcing them to run and go into hiding. What was to be a fun-filled vacation with his newly adopted family, turns into a nightmare and ends where it started, back on the Navajo Indian Reservation high up on a mesa held sacred by George and his grandfather.

Outnumbered and out gunned, George is willing to make the ultimate sacrifice to protect his father and his brothers. Can he save them without knowing who these men are or where they might be? Or when they might attack? Can George trust his friends whom he reaches out to for help? Is he prepared for betrayal that leads to his heartbreak and possible death?

You can find Book One, Stolen Lives, at: http://www.amazon.com/Stolen-Lives-Trilogy-Book-ebook/dp/B00PKKN6W4/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1415908221&sr=1-1&keywords=Stolen+Lives%2C+Joseph+Lewis

You can find Book Two, Shattered Lives, at: http://www.amazon.com/Shattered-Lives-Trilogy-Book-ebook/dp/B00UZRP828/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1427118727&sr=1-1&keywords=Shattered+Lives%2C+Joseph+Lewis

Calmer Of The Storm

I’m sure each one of us can remember where we were and what we were doing when we heard the news reports about 9-11. I remember being glued to the TV watching the footage, trying to comprehend the enormity of it all. I remember news people trying to explain it, while others couldn’t find the words. The pictures were devastating and drove many to their knees.

Through it all, the Mayor of New York at that time, Rudy Giuliani, did his best to calm people. He did his best to reassure people. He worked to comfort people. And while I can’t remember the exact words David Letterman used, I remember him weeping on camera and praising Giuliani for all he did for the people of New York. It still rings in my heart and memory.

Similarly, I remember where I was and what I was doing when as a fourth grader in 1963, Sister Lisetta came over the announcements and told us that President John Kennedy had been assassinated. I didn’t understand it at the time, the enormity of it at the time, but I knew instinctively that something of significance had happened. I heard it in her voice. I saw the reaction of my teacher. I went home and found my mom crying. I watched the TV news when Walter Cronkite paused, wiped his eyes, and cleared his throat before he continued with the news.

This morning I read one of my favorite passages about the frightened fishermen in a boat on a very stormy sea. The point of the passage was that because of a plea, the storm was rebuked, the waves calmed, and the sea was settled. One of the men in the boat remarked, “What sort of Man is this, who can calm the sea?”

Got me thinking . . .

Not so much about the storm or the sea or the fishermen. But more so about the question, “What sort of Man is this, who can calm the sea?”

What I think the fishermen meant was, “How did this Man calm the storm?” and then I thought of how many times we’ve come across people in our own lives who help calm our own storms, and who are willing to help calm the storms others find themselves in.

What kind of person is it who can calm a storm?

I think back to Letterman’s feelings about Giuliani, my own feelings about Cronkite. But there are so many others who have walked into, and sometimes left, my life who played a significant role in being the Calmer Of The Storm.

As I said, each of us can, hopefully, point to one such person who has played that role for us.

An even more important question is, “Am I . . . Are We . . . the Calmer Of The Storm? Or, are we the Creator Of The Storm?”

Do we do our best to calm the waters, still the churning seas in others, or do we create more waves, more wind and more fury in others?

It’s sometimes easier and quicker to be the Creator Of The Storm. It’s pretty easy to agitate, to cast doubt, to repeat a rumor, to pick at, to detract, and to be cynical and angry and negligent. It’s a lot harder to be comforting, to be sensitive, to spend the time listening, sometimes holding someone in distress. It’s sometimes harder to find the right words to say to help calm the nerves and soul of someone in distress. It’s sometimes a fight with our impatient selves to spend the time someone else needs from us when we’d rather spend it on ourselves or on less uncomfortable pursuits.

So, bless those souls who have been the Calmer Of The Storm in my life.  Bless those souls who have been the Calmer Of The Storm in your life, and bless those souls who have been the Calmer Of The Storm in the lives of others. Not only bless them, but perhaps we can learn from them and be more like them. To be a Calmer Of The Storm, rather than the Creator Of The Storm. That’s a worthy goal. May we be a Calmer Of The Storm.  Something to think about . . .

The Call

Back a couple of years ago I received a call about my sister, Betty.  She had been diagnosed with Lewy Body Dementia, which is very similar to Alzheimer's.  At first, the individual is aware that “something is wrong” but cannot control the downhill spiral.  In fact, one summer when she and her husband came out to visit, twice at different times, Betty said that she felt like she was losing her mind.  Not having seen her in a while, neither Kim nor I saw anything different.  Betty seemed like Betty.

This diagnosis hit me hard.  Coming from a big family, the older ones took care of the younger ones, and I was Betty’s “charge.”  She and I grew close, very close, and I can remember so many Christmas’ and Thanksgivings and camping trips.  I have nothing but very fond memories and that is how I will choose to picture and remember her – always!  Not in her present state.

I’m betting that there are many of us, perhaps all of us, who have received such phone calls.  Calls in the early morning.  Calls in the dead of night.  Calls in the middle of a laugh or a good story or a wonderful meal.

The Call is an unwelcome intrusion.  It is seldom a call with good news, though we do receive some of those.  Hopefully, we receive more of those than the other, not so good or welcome kinds of calls.

October is Cancer Awareness Month. All types, I think, because one is no better or no worse than the other.  Cancer is cancer.  It is scary and worrisome, not only for the recipient of The Call, but for those of us who live with those, who love those, who receive The Call. 

As I said, The Call is unwelcome.

As I write this, I think of Tom, one of Kim’s and my best friends.  I think of his wife, Carol, his son, Jarrett.  I think of my niece.  Two of my brothers.  Other family members, both immediate and extended.  Co-workers and colleagues.  Friends I know well, others more of an acquaintance.  Some battling courageously.  Some who have, unfortunately and sadly, been defeated.  Never without a fight, though.  Never without a fight.

In fact as I write this, I am aware of folks I rub elbows with each day, many times a day, who are silently and courageously fighting this battle.  Either they or their loved ones.  Some folks we know about, while others choose to keep it quiet and only for family and a few close friends who know.  Some of these folks we never know about, but we do know they are out there among us.  Perhaps scared.  Perhaps frightened.  Perhaps feeling very much alone.  But with an undying hope and a deeply held faith.

So today, this post is for you.  Each of you.  To those who have suffered.  To those who have received The Call.  To those who are still battling. 

I have embedded a link to a song sung by a little girl to her mother.  Her mother is battling bravely.  Her daughter wanted her mom to know that she wasn’t alone.  Her daughter wanted her mom to know that she wanted to help her.  To stand beside her.   To know that she deeply loves her.

Please take three or four minutes to watch and to listen.  Hold those close to you tightly to your heart.  Keep their valiant struggle in your mind, in your thoughts, and in your prayers.  They deserve it. We deserve it.

https://video.xx.fbcdn.net/hvideo-xta1/v/t42.1790-2/12117333_10153834118142240_1389108512_n.mp4?efg=eyJ2ZW5jb2RlX3RhZyI6InNkIn0%3D&oh=f07cd5c056ed9e229a5289ce7682fbd8&oe=562A70D5

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!