A Christmas to Remember

 “For a child is born to us today.  He will be called the Prince of Peace." ~ Isaiah 9:6

All Aliyah knew was that she’d been abandoned near a police station.  She never knew her birth parents and never will. 

She suffered abandonment issues from that day, often dreaming about them coming to get her; waiting and thinking up rescue scenarios.  Each night she said a prayer that, wherever her Mom was, she was safe and had found peace in letting her baby go.

For the first 10 years, she was in and out of numerous neglectful, abusive or otherwise love-less foster homes.  Some memories will never leave.  

She spent 3 years with a lady who blew the monthly stipend from DCFS on her own kids while Aliyah ate maybe once a day, if lucky.  But the woman was generous with beatings; some bordering on torture (making her kneel on uncooked rice seemed a favorite of hers). 

 Aliyah grew up believing that exploitation and desertion were normal.  If the system was a teacher, then she was incredibly cruel.  

Some places were more like group homes where she shared a room with four or more other abandoned kids.  Some were nice.  Others acted out – physically, emotionally, even sexually.

Holidays just reminded her what she lost.  Once she even came into a new home the day before Christmas and expected to fit right in – to pretend that she liked all their holiday traditions.  They never stopped to think it was overwhelming, different or depressing for her.

Earlier this year, Jasmine and Terrell Williams entered her story.  They’d fostered more than a dozen children over the years.  But because there was no chance of Aliyah ever being reunited with her parents, the Williams’ felt a special love for her.

That had happened once before – a nice couple with two children her age.  But divorce separated them all.  Aliyah entered the foster merry-go-round once again. 

As they gathered around the Christmas tree, there was a knock at the door. 

“Aliyah – could you get the door please,” Terrell asked.

She opened the door to an old-fashioned Santa Claus holding an envelope in his outstretched mitten.  “This is for you Aliyah, from two people who really love you and that believe gifts should be of the heart.”

She opened the envelope and removed a simple card that read: “Merry Christmas Aliyah, if you’ll have us, we’d love to ADOPT you and complete our family.”  Signed Jasmine and Terrell

Beneath the frenetic calls of money, gifts and Christmas cheer, there’s a quietness that whispers of love as our truth.  When we invite the stillness in, there is a sense of thankfulness strong enough to greet storms and sunny days just the same.  Merry Christmas my friends!

God our Father, help us remember the birth of Jesus, that we may share in the Angel’s song, the Shepherd’s wonder and the Wise Men’s worship.  Close the door of hate and open the door of love for all people.  May this morning bring us joy at being Your children and tonight bring sleep with grateful thoughts.  Amen 

Lessons from the Greatest Generation"

 “When I’m afraid for the future, I put my faith in You Lord." ~ Psalm 56:3

We’re about to lose one of America’s most precious resources. Not oil, gas or rare metals. What we’re about to lose is the living presence of those from the “Greatest Generation.” For many, COVID will be their last struggle. Some, like my Dad, won’t survive.

They grew up during the Great Depression and came of age during World War II.  That generation created the strongest consumer culture ever, set us on its path to world power and unparalleled prosperity. They did so with ingenuity and wisdom; but also grit, sacrifice, and humility.

Those who were lucky enough to have known and worked with them are better for it.

This is a different country than the U.S. of 1941, when there were only 133 million Americans, when Ted Williams batted .406, and “Pinocchio” graced the nation’s big screens. Today there are 325+ million more of us. We’re generally wealthier, communicate in ways unthinkable back then, and travel much farther from home. But we’re far less amiable toward sacrifice.

For kids like my Dad, adult responsibilities came early.  Many helped support their families by hustling papers, cleaning houses, and picking crops. They worked hard at whatever job was available, taking great pride in their work.

They viewed personal responsibility as an honor. Something bestowed upon them. Something to be cherished, respected, and grateful for. They accepted all consequences, whether good or bad; never whining or blaming. 

In that day, society held itself to a higher standard; humility and modesty were core values. They did it out of a sense of duty - whatever was best for family, community, and country.

If your parents were like mine, then their house was filled with stuff. Their pack-rat mentality grew from an earlier time when the next canister of flour or pair of shoes was never guaranteed. Their frugality enabled them to amass healthy savings even on limited incomes.

We were a much more religious nation back then. Believing in God helped those who struggled through the Depression and sustained soldiers fighting on distant battlefields. At home, millions prayed fervently for the safe return of loved ones in uniform. And if they did not return, families relied on God and their faith for the strength to bear the grief and continue living.

These times are shaping who we are today. The hardships, and lessons, are not all that different than they were nearly a century ago. Adversities should remind us of that which is truly important and the values we are quickly leaving behind ... values the Greatest Generation embodied.

If we do, there’s no reason why we, too, can’t achieve greatness in the eyes of future generations.

Almighty Father, we are living in trying and uncertain times.  Help us learn from our elders’ examples that sacrifice can be good for us, that discipline is required of us, that humility is essential for us, and that You will guide us.  Amen

The Prodigals

 “There’s no other god like You, forgiving our sins and showing us your constant love." ~ Micah 7:18

Chloe, an otherwise healthy 24-year-old female with no past medical history, grew tired of the COVID pandemic; weary of the monotony, frustrated about complying with overly-restrictive guidelines, and hopeless - as if nothing could keep her safe from exposure anyway.

Tired, worried and lonely, she bought a ticket to St. Thomas and headed south - reasoning that the hotel would be mostly empty and reassuringly clean.  Surely the virus transmission rate had to be lower than Michigan. (In fact, the coronavirus infection rate in St. Thomas had been steadily climbing; Chloe’s risk of catching it grew rapidly during her stay.)

After four glorious days of sun, fun and what only can be described as excessive partying, Chloe returned home.  During the week that followed, the critical period of potential transmission, Chloe went on shopping trips and met up with friends; social distancing be damned!

Then it hit.  Fast … fierce … vicious! 

It began with fever, fatigue, and joint pain.  Probably just a bad case of the flu, she mistakenly thought.   When the malaise got worse, chest tightness confirmed that it could be nothing else.   COVID-19!

She imagined vulnerable relatives and friends and relatives dying and never forgiving herself.  Work colleagues shamed her for being so selfish.  Friends quickly distanced themselves; they were scared too.

The illness marched on; every day a new surprise.  Headaches, upset stomach, dizziness.  She thought she must be dying; maybe even wished she was.

Her Dad phoned.  “Chloe, please come home, we’ll care for you here safely,” he pleaded.

On her trip homeward, she rehearsed the speech she prepared for her father: “Dad, I’m so sorry.  Can you forgive me?”  Her throat constricted more with each word.

Tiny snowflakes hit the pavement as worn tires approached the childhood home she hadn’t seen in years.  Of the dozens of scenes that’d played out in her mind, none prepared her for what she saw. 

There, on the front porch stood her father, mother and twin brothers. A banner taped across the front of the house read, “Welcome Home!”

She sobbed.  Chole’s Dad accepted her before words ever left her mouth.

Of course, she had been wastefully extravagant, but her father was more lavishly excessive with his grace, mercy, and forgiving.

In many ways, we are all like Chloe.  We stray from God’s presence when we grow weary in our faith; being pulled by the world to embrace its destructive ways.  We lose sight of our Father because we’re full of ourselves.

Thankfully, He is a sovereign God.  His relentless pursuit is greater than our ability to wander; forgiving us as if nothing happened.  He embraces us as if we’re not flawed and untidy, and sees our value when we deem ourselves worthless.

Thank You Father, for giving us Your only Son who loved us enough to come to earth and experience the worst pain imaginable so we could be forgiven. Your mercy flows to us in spite of our many faults and failures.  Amen

"And When I Die"

 “You were created in God’s glory and for sharing His love." ~ Isaiah 43:7

The day will come when I will lie utterly still, eyes open but unfocussed, staring into oblivion.  My body will rest upon a soft white sheet neatly tucked under four corners of a thin mattress located in a hospital hosted by those living and dying.  At some point, a doctor will conclude that my brain has stopped functioning.  Essentially my life on earth has ended.

My soul will be recalled to our Heavenly Father; what’s left is simply parts and tissue.  The Bible doesn’t give many details about what happens next.  But it’s safe to say that we’ll enter a reality far beyond our comprehension.

So, don’t worry about me.  Death is only the end of one chapter I hope.

When that time comes, don’t implant artificial life into my body by the use of machines.  Let my body be used to help others lead fuller, deeper, richer lives.

Give my heart to a person whose own ticker lacked compassion and kindness.  Help them aim for a fresh start – at seeing the innocence in children; at listening with all his senses, at using his God-given talents for worthy purposes.

Give my sight to the woman who has never seen a sunrise, a puppy’s yearning, or the brilliance of fireworks on the 4^th of July.  Let her see every moment with eagerness; filled with wonder.

Give my blood to the teenager who was pulled from his car’s wreckage, so that he might live to show others the suffering associated with impaired driving.  Donate my kidneys to someone who depends on dialysis for survival.  Take my bones, all muscle, and every nerve in my body.  Find a way to make a child with special needs walk.

Give my skin to the mother suffering the excruciating pain of burns from a house fire.  Help my tissue provide a temporary wound dressing until her own skin can heal.  Give her a broad smile that exudes confidence, enthusiasm, and authenticity.

Explore every corner of my brain.  Cultivate any useful cells so that: someday a boy without speech will cheer at the crack of a bat; a girl with a hearing loss will hear the gentle sound of rain on her window; they can be genetically modified to recognize and kill cancer cells.

Burn what is left of me and scatter the ashes to the winds to help the flowers grow.  If you must bury something, let it be my faults, my weaknesses and all prejudice against other human beings.

If, by chance, you wish to remember me, do it with a kind deed or word to someone who needs you.  If you do all I have asked, my spirit will watch over you and I will live in your heart forever.

God of health and healing, You taught us that death can never end our story, for we are blessed to be a blessing; Your grace is our delight.  Thank You for those who have made the decision that, in death, life must be shared.  Amen

The Kindness Café

           "Love is patient, love is kind.  It doesn’t envy, never boasts, nor is it proud." ~ 1 Corinthians 13:4

Among the country’s familiar debt difficulties, Greece has an epidemic of abandoned dogs.  The Greek Isles are home to over a million strays (1 for every 11 residents).  More than 800,000 refugees from Syria and other Middle East nations have crossed into Greece via the Aegean Sea.  Most have passed through the small island of Lesvos, due to its proximity to the Turkish shore.

With refugees flooding the area, resources are stretched thin.  Yet compassion towards people as well as animals has created a solidarity of kindness among Lesvos’ inhabitants.

A local resident was passing the Hott Spott Café in Ledvos’ capital, Mytilene, one night when he noticed something remarkable.  Lit by the lights of a Christmas tree, 4 stray dogs were sleeping on the warm benches of the empty eatery.

As a waiter later explained, with widespread unemployment in Greece, many people can’t afford to feed their pets.  We couldn’t bear to see them shivering during cold nights alone at Christmas, so we let them in.  Though the café bar closes to people at 3 a.m., homeless hounds are more than welcome after hours.

Not a night goes by anymore without canines on the couches.

Customers don't seem to mind, even offering some love and attention to pups near closing.  No doubt a treat or two also finds its way into a hungry mouth.

It only took this one simple kind act to change the lives of the sweet dogs who come to the Café at night, where they now matter to someone.

Such random acts of generosity toward animals isn’t uncommon in Greece.  Despite being without a permanent home or family, animals are often cared for by the community - an alternative to putting them into crowded shelters.  It’s like the entire country of Greece is a no-kill shelter.

While it may not be possible to open your home to every stray pet in need, an open heart can be just as accommodating.  The Quaker author, Parker Palmer once wrote: “Committing acts of kindness shows us the power that we have over ourselves and our choices; and whether this world is a cruel or wondrous place to live.”

I’d add that they also bring us closer to God.

Our animals do have important roles in helping us to become more human.  And, one of the best ways to teach children about empathy is by helping them learn about treating animals well.  Each kind act helps us too, become the people we were meant to be.  

Fill your day and your life with acts of kindness then.  Let them flow from your soul.  Let them warm your heart and lead you to love.

Lord of Creation, bless all Your animals and let our care for them be a reflection of Your loving nature.  Thank You for all the beauty and wonder in creation; especially for this expression of Your love.  Amen

Better With Age

 “God has plans to bring about the future you hope for." ~ Jeremiah 29:11

When Carly, a rookie reporter, had been assigned a newspaper piece on aging, her boss suggested she interview Jack, a Depression-era, nonagenarian who’d served in WWII.  She cringed at the thought; rescheduling it several times and hoping it would eventually be forgotten.  No such luck!

As she entered the Nursing Home, she imagined an old man with memories as cloudy as his eyes.  What could she possibly learn from a lifetime of happy mediocrity now tinged with loneliness?

Carl greeted her with a welcoming smile.  His eyes seemed eager to share a story of laughter, of joy and affection.  Carly would soon learn that Jack was so much more!

“I consider myself a sen-ager,” he began without prompting. “I have everything I ever wanted as a teenager, only seven decades later.  I don’t have to go to school or work.  I have my own pad.  And I don’t have acne.  Life’s good!”

When Carly failed to laugh, Jack continued.

“People my age don’t have many role models on aging elegantly because few live this long,” he continued.  “So, I’m still learning how to do this.”

Slight chuckle. 

“Nowadays, everything happens at the speed of youth.  Whether it’s cell phones, songs, or movies, only the newest models and latest releases seem to matter.  If it’s been around for a while, it’s probably lost much of its value.  Same with people.”

His smile was engaging, she thought.

“We tend to associate getting older with a decline in beauty, vitality and appeal.  But aging done well has the potential to be an enjoyable, inspiring upgrade of self.”

“Done right, age brings wisdom, maturity and insight.  With age comes experience, discernment and perspective.  We become more empathetic.  We develop the compassion to fully know and love others, and the confidence to relax into our best attributes.”

“When you suddenly realize that you are, in fact, getting older, it’s still possible to age gracefully from there on out.  All it takes is smart choices, well-directed energy and a desire for self-renewal.”

“And when you shift your focus to what can be learned and created, you’ll gain a sense of hope and excitement.  If you tell me I’m going to live to be 120, I’d be worried that it’s not enough time.  I’m excited about deepening my relationships with my family, deepening my spirituality and writing my family histories.”

As Carly left her interview with Jack, she suddenly realized why her Editor had given her this assignment.   Sometimes, we become so consumed with our current stage in life that we think that’s all there is.  Especially if we are going through a trying time, it’s good to know that life is so much bigger than our current circumstances.  Just ask Jack!

Loving God, let us all pause to ask and then rely upon the wisdom of our elders.  Give them encouragement to apply their age advantage and to stay engaged enough to pass along their knowledge and their legacy of understanding.  Amen

Silence is God's Roar

“Be silent in the LORD’s presence and wait patiently for Him." ~ Psalm 37:7

For no particular reason, an otherwise regular member stopped attending church.  Call it laziness, boredom or maybe Harold just felt his needs were no longer being met there.  So, after a few weeks, Pastor Dave decided to visit him.

The pastor found Harold at home alone, sitting before a blazing fire on that damp, chilly evening.  Knowing the reason for his preacher’s visit, he greeted him, led him to a comfy chair near the fireplace and waited.

Dave made himself at home but said nothing.  The silence somehow spoke for itself; peaceful like an angel's lullaby, smoothing out the roughness of the day.

Glowing embers leaped and twirled in a fiery dance, transforming the wood into hot ribbons of light.  Wood smoke drifted through the home like incense.  Two silent figures illuminated only by the flickering light, pondered the serenity of quivering flames.

After some time, the pastor took the fire tongs, carefully picked up a brightly burning ember and placed it to one side of the hearth all by itself.

Still mute, he returned to his chair.  Harold watched all this in quiet reflection.  The silence had become more comfortable now; like two old friends enjoying the warmth of companionship.

The lonely ember’s flame flickered … then diminished; its fiery glow was no more.  All that endured was a charcoaled remnant of wood.

Still, not a single word had been spoken since the initial greeting.  Pastor Dave glanced at his watch and realized it was time to leave.  He stood slowly, picked up the cold, dead ember and placed it back in the middle of the raging fire.

Almost immediately it began to glow again from the heat and brilliance of the burning coals around it.

The Pastor stood, contemplating God’s soft whisper lifting from the fragrance of applewood logs.  When he reached the door to leave, Harold said with a thoughtful grin, “Thank you for your visit … and especially for the blazing sermon.  I’ll see you Sunday … my usual pew!”

For most people, remaining quiet for even a short time is challenging.  It’s tempting to fill the space in our minds with noise or distracting movements rather than sit quietly and listen for what the silence may hold for us.

Too often our prayers are projections of our own needs and we give God little room to enter the conversation.  Talking to God without ever listening is pointless.  Silence is the language of God; creative, transformative, regenerative.  We must remain silent to capture every word He speaks; so its Light will always guide us.

God is a mystery of silence and intimacy, far beyond our wildest imaginations, yet nearer to each of us than we are to ourselves.

Lord, Your Word says that when we draw near to You, You will draw near to us.  I seek Your face, Your truth and Your instruction for my life.  I want follow you more nearly, hear You more clearly and love You more dearly.  Amen

Lessons From the First Thanksgiving

 “Hard work will give you power; being lazy will make you a slave." ~ Proverbs 12:24

We all know the Thanksgiving story about the Pilgrims’ gratitude to God for a harvest season of blessing and survival.  But all was not happy in Shangri-La.  They actually faced chronic food shortages - but not due to harsh weather or their limited farming experience.

Before leaving Europe, the Pilgrims entered into a 1620 contract with investors (called the "Adventurers") who financed their trip.  Simply put, they agreed to form a commune.  All property, supplies and crops were contributed into a collective pool and shared equally. 

They called their structure a "Commonwealth" because all wealth and the fruits of their labor was held in common.  Crops were brought to a shared storehouse and distributed evenly.  Each person had to work, not for themselves as individuals or families, but for everybody else in the settlement.

Lacking any reward for hard work, the commonwealth approach bred discontent and inefficiency.  Nearly half the settlers died.  Gov. Bradford recorded in his personal diary that “Everybody was happy to claim their equal share, but output shrank over time.  Slackers showed up late for field work and the hardest workers resented it.  It’s called “human nature.”

The ‘community’ decided when and how much to plant, when to harvest, who would do the work. It quickly proved an epic disaster.  Facing chaos, starvation and death, the colony’s elders led by Bradford abolished the system in 1623.  He divided common property into private plots.  The new owners could produce what they wanted; then keep or trade it freely.

That simple change to private ownership, wrote Bradford, “… had very good success, for it made all hands very industrious, so as much more corn was planted than otherwise would have been.  Women now went willingly into the field, and took their little ones with them to set corn, which [had] before alleged weakness and inability.”

Soon they had such a bountiful harvest they could share food with the native tribes.  The benefits of private, rather than common, ownership were quickly recognized by the Pilgrims and later framed by our nation’s Founders in the Constitution 150 years later.

Surprisingly, I don’t recall ever getting that lesson in school at any level.

Over the centuries, commonwealth schemes (i.e. socialism) have crash-landed into regrettable policies too many times to keep count.  No matter what they’re called: central planning, wealth redistribution, progressivism, or government ownership – they all incite envy and inefficiency. 

Efforts to instill those ideas in our children through mis-education and demagoguery continue to erode our liberties and productivity; spewed by ideologues who as Gov. Bradford put it, have the "vanity of that conceit … as if they were wiser than God."

Thank You Father, Father, for the freedoms we enjoy today and for the people of faith who helped lay the Constitutional framework for our nation.  Thank You for being the rock and fortress of this great country. For You alone are the shield and horn of our salvation. Amen

Honoring a Life

 “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted." ~ Matthew 5:4

A person of uncommon gifts, Camila always made the impossible appear easy and natural.  On 4South she reassured patients deemed "difficult" by other nurses.  One glance at that brilliant smile against her bright green uniform and their pain meds worked better, appetites improved and they slept more comfortably.

But this morning her patient, a middle-aged woman, died the night before.  Lauren had suffered an aneurism while preparing dinner.  There were no warning signs, no headaches, nothing.  A congenital brain defect; it had been a ticking time bomb since birth.

Her body was being kept on life support to harvest her organs for donation while her husband and teen-aged girls waited in the ICU.  Camila dreaded having to witness their grief.  But she also knew it was an honor and a privilege to be one of the last persons to care for his wife and their mother.

Camila entered Lauren’s room and spoke to her as if she were still alive, still mattered, still deserved first-class care.  She softly combed Lauren’s hair and fluffed her pillows for comfort.

Kept alive now only by a ventilator, Lauren’s lungs rose and fell as if she were still breathing on her own.  Camila held her hand, which felt surprisingly warm to the touch, and offered a prayer for Christ's healing mercy.

She remembered a beautiful floral arrangement left in the staff lounge by a discharged patient.  The flowers were still fresh, delicate shades of pink, the kind of color that brought a confident radiance and pleasant aroma to the room.  

Camila took the bouquet and placed it on the table next to Lauren’s bed.

Then she called a friend in Nutritional Services and got hot chocolate for the girls and fresh coffee for Dad.  She gathered up several packets of Kleenex so they wouldn’t have to ask.

The girls cried while Dad kept it together, at least for now.  Sometime during the shift, they said their good byes and thanked Camila for her compassion.

It’s been years, but she still thinks of them from time to time and wonders how they’re all doing. 

Maybe they think of her, too.

Nurses play an essential role in our everyday lives.  While many of us are sheltering in place due to stay-at-home orders, nurses and other healthcare professionals head to work each day to care for patients.  Nurses also have their own worries at home – loss of jobs for their spouses, perhaps kids with no childcare, bringing COVID-19 and other illnesses home to their families.  

But, they put their lives on the line each day because that’s what they’re called to do.

Loving God, we pray for nurses and all who minister to the sick, dying, and all requiring care.  May they be witnesses of Christ's healing mercy.  May we follow their examples of kindness and compassion.  Grant them the strength and courage to face each day's challenges and to remain faithful in their ministry of service.  Amen

Beyond the Mask

 “Value others above yourselves, rather than out of selfish ambition or rivalry." ~ Philippians 2:3-4

I don’t like wearing face masks. There, I said it!

They fog my sunglasses and make my face itch.  It’s hard to talk clearly through them and nearly impossible to pick up facial expressions that add important cues to conversation.  They also make it impossible to forget the depressing reality that COVID-19, and its restrictions, still plagues us.

It’s frustrating that experts from the Surgeon General to the CDC have flip-flopped on their guidance.  But It shouldn’t surprise us.  It’s a brand-new, fast-moving crisis.  We probably won’t know for years what was right and wrong in our efforts to stop COVID-19.

More than anything, I hate that masks have become such a divisive political symbol.  But, again, not shocking.  Everything today is politicized.  Inspiring stories.  Sad stories.  Even weather stories.  It bothers me that in America, where half of the country hates the other so viscerally, people won't even interact.

Scripture doesn’t provide a mandate about masks.  But I DO see an invitation … to do the right thing.

For Christians called to love our neighbors as ourselves (Matthew 22:39), wearing a mask in public seems like a relatively easy way to practice neighborly love.  Rooted in basic kindness and respect, practicing all reasonable precautions is actually all about being faithful to Christ’s commands.

Given the confusion about how COVID-19 spreads, shouldn’t we err on the side of more protective measures rather than less, for the sake of neighbors we might unknowingly infect?

It’s easy to blame our leaders these days, and certainly many are making mistakes.  But let’s show them grace (Romans 13:1–7).  Instead of rushing to disparage them, what if we gave them the benefit of the doubt - respecting their authority and believing they’re working hard and trying their best?  Especially if compliance doesn’t contradict our submission to Christ’s teachings.  Go ahead and wear that mask “joyfully, not as a burden,” (Hebrews 13:17) it’s a small cross to bear!

Scripture sometimes calls us to give up our freedoms for the sake of the gospel.  Few things are more beautiful to witness than someone giving up their rights and freedom for the sake of another (1 Cor. 9:22–23).  Do we want the non-believing world to look at Christians as reckless virus super-spreaders who put their own freedoms ahead of the health of their larger community?  Or do we want them to look at Christians as “servants to all,” willing to forego their freedoms out of Christlike neighborly love?

If the small annoyance of wearing masks can help not only save lives but also souls, winning more to the Gospel, isn’t it worth it?

Holy Spirit, grant us a peaceful heart.  Teach us patience.  Help us turn to You in prayer when we are irritable or afraid, or when our journey seems too long.  May all our efforts to guard and protect one another become a shining witness to Your love, Amen.

The Forgotten Soldiers

 “As Christ’s soldier, don’t let yourself become tied up in worldly affairs." ~ 2 Timothy 2:4

Some volunteered, others were drafted - ineligible for a student deferment because they’d never been to college.  Terry didn’t question the draft or the Vietnam conflict.  His grandfather and Dad had served in war.  He considered it his duty too.

Now at 67, Terry was gaining weight and losing hair.  Until recently, he’d made periodic visits to the American Legion to exchange stories with his war buddies.  They were heroes – every one! 

But they’ll hear his tales no longer, for the soldier died today.

Comrades forever, they could never forget watching the limbs of soldiers blown off in convoy attacks.  Violent, horrific, compassion, frustration - aka the Vietnam War.  Vivid still are their haunting memories of Vietnamese children rummaging through their base camp dump, trying to consume discarded food off the filthy dirt.  More troubling images remained forever at bay.

He’ll not be mourned by many, just his children and his wife.  Like so many of his war buddies, he’d lived an ordinary and quite uneventful life.  Statistically, Vietnam Vets had lower unemployment rates than non-vets, and were much less likely to be in prison or ever jailed for a crime.

When celebrities die, mourners note their passing with stories of their inflated importance.  By contrast, a soldier goes unnoticed and unappreciated.  Nearly 60,000 soldiers died in southeast Asia from 1955 to 1975, some as young as 16 years old. 

A politician's salary and the style in which they live are often disproportionate to the service given.  But the ordinary soldier, who offered up his or her life, is compensated with a medal and perhaps a small pension. 

Terry’s ranks are thinning, but his presence should remind us we will need his likes again.  For when countries are in conflict, it’s the soldier’s job to clean up the troubles that politicians started.

Terry was one of the lucky ones, returning home with only a minor shrapnel injury.  Over 300,000 were wounded; 1,592 Americans still remain unaccounted for from the Vietnam War.

Vietnam was more confusing to them after returning home then before they left, an opinion common among many Vietnam vets.  Terry had no illusions that returning soldiers would be greeted as heroes. Other than his parents, he wasn’t sure anyone would be happy to see him.  So, when he left Saigon, he sent a self-addressed letter home welcoming himself back to civilian life.

It’s so easy to forget them; it seems so long ago.  But let’s never forget that it’s the Terry’s of our nation who won for us the freedom that our Country now enjoys.  Given the chance, he likely would’ve served again.  Over 90% of Vietnam Veterans say they’re glad they served; 3 of 4 say they’d serve again, even knowing the outcome.

If you cherish your freedom, thank a Vet today!

Dear Lord, today we honor our veterans, worthy Americans who gave their best when called to serve and protect us. Bless them abundantly for their unselfish service and the hardships and sacrifices they made.  Amen

The Joy of Now

 “You’ll find Him when you seek Him with all your heart." ~ Jeremiah 29:13

A cold gray rain soaked the yard’s fallen leaves.  The few remaining ones clung to limbs that were, not long ago, adorned with vibrant autumn colors.  Light frost suggested winter wasn't far behind.

Annie stood alone at the window, ears perked, tail erect, shifting impatiently.  Earlier she’d cleared the yard of squirrels and the goose family who repeatedly left their ‘droppings’ in our yard.

She came over and sat by me; tail waving, eyes glaring.  She hardly viewed a little autumn drizzle as a deterrent to a morning hike at the lake. 

But I wasn’t quite ready yet; still shedding the sleep from my brain. 

Annie continued her stare as if to say: “Times a wasting, human!”

I scratched behind her ears and rubbed soft fur before repeating: “Not now, maybe later if it clears a little.”  She turned quickly and retrieved Boo - a dingy old toy short on stuffing.  It drooped from her mouth like a rag before she dumped Boo at my feet. 

“Here, I brought you something treasured in exchange for what I want.  OK?” she barked.

I toss Boo across the room hoping she might be distracted by a little game of indoor fetch.  Glancing nonchalantly, she returned her gaze at me.  Dogs are relentless negotiators.

“Maybe later,” I said, getting up and moving toward the spare room I use for writing.  But there’s no “later” for a dog.  They’re creatures of Right Now, focused on the moment, wagging impatiently, her eyes never leaving mine as she trailed behind me.

I soon found myself not writing but thinking about Right Now.  How often do I push the moment into the future, when I really should be more like Annie and face it head on?  Specifically, have I spent these pandemic months putting my life on hold, not seizing it as an opportunity for growth?  Have I missed the opportunity to grow closer to God?  Hiding rather than seeking?  Hoping rather than acting?  Waiting rather than living? 

I’m convinced Annie can read my mind because suddenly she parked at my feet with a look of renewed determination.  I smiled.  Rainy day hikes along the peaceful, misty shoreline are what field jackets and hiking boots are for.

“I give up!” I tell Annie going for her leash.  I can rarely refuse her; she's just too damn cute. 

Throughout the ages, humanity has been tested.  This is one of those times.  And for people of faith, it’s go-time!  Time to practice beliefs that have brought us this far.  Time to reflect on what our spiritual practices or beliefs mean and how they can be actualized during these trying times. 

But right now, it’s time to walk my pup! 

Almighty Father, when the disease, that moves us to mask our faces, fades away, help us see more clearly, listen more actively, and act with more conviction.  Even in the rush of our lives, help us seek You and all the wonders You provide.  Amen

A Pastor's Dilemma

 “For to me, living means serving Christ; dying gets even better!" ~ Philippians 1:21

He stood facing the congregation; all heads were down.  Maybe it was them showing respect or maybe they were too afraid of what was coming.  As the dark cherry coffin was pulled from the hearse, Pastor Bob begged the Almighty for the right words today.

At 59, Bob had done many funerals before.  Earlier this week, he’d celebrated the life of a faithful Christian and longtime church member who’d epitomized the message he’d delivered amid those grieving her loss: “For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.” (Phil. 1:21).

But today was different … very different.

Albert, the deceased, was not just a militant atheist who Bob didn’t know, but someone who’d apparently lived an awful life.  One of the pallbearers had confided to him earlier that “We’re all better off because he was the nastiest man on earth.”

Now he had to preach the toughest funeral of his life to a few dozen people convinced that the man in the coffin was, at this very moment, suffering in Hell.  As the casket approached the alter, Pastor Bob renewed his plea.  “Help me do right today, Lord.”

The pastor remembered something he’d learned in seminary - that funerals are not for the dead.  Those grieving are often desperate to find purpose in their anguish.  This may well be the only opportunity those in attendance may have to hear the gospel.  Relish those opportunities.

And so, he began.  Bob introduced himself not as a professional burying person, but as a proud Christian.  “I’m not here to speak of death, but about the good news of Jesus Christ.  Nor will I be generic; I’ll speak confidently from God’s own Word.”

He continued by recognizing the dignity of life. “Everyone is created in God’s own image.  Even though Alfred had seemingly made a wreck of his life, there had been times where God used him in some way or another to bless others.  Our true faith is known only to God.”

He reminded them that we’re never promised another day; that we never know when we’ll exhale our final breath.  It’s too late to believe in God when you’re six feet under.  Only belief in Christ guarantees everlasting life.

Now it was time to close by addressing the elephant in the room. 

“We Christians believe in eternal life,” he said.  “Don’t presume that Albert’s soul is lost forever.  Our job is not to condemn – that’s God’s job.  Our job is to connect.  It’s always possible that in those last few moments, a seed that’d once been planted may have come to fruition.  God will always do what’s right!”

And with that his sermon ended, confident in his faith and grateful for the opportunity.

Almighty God, we know that prayers for the dead have no meaning.  I cry for those left behind, for the lonely ones with empty hearts.  Comfort them, bring them peace and restore hope and faith and belonging.  Amen