Semi-Profound Thoughts

*Here are some semi-profound thoughts for all of you to ponder on this Wednesday:

Experience is the thing you have left when everything else is gone.

Two can live as cheaply as one, for half as long.

The cost of living hasn’t affected its popularity.

One nice thing about egotists: they don’t talk about other people.

...Annnd one lame joke:

Protons have mass? I didn’t even know they were Catholic.

*Thanks, Bob Pentland

A Fifteen Minute Break

So, yesterday was a typical Monday at the office. I was busy getting the week’s appointments organized, putting together reports for a half dozen annual reviews I have scheduled. There was also a problem brewing with some paperwork from last week which I was trying to straighten out. In other words, I was as busy as a one-arm paper hanger, when a got this text from my daughter:

Kaitlin: Do you have any animal related dad jokes? I’m asking for Bailey.

(Bailey is Kaitlin’s best friend in Columbia and a real sweetheart.)

Me: Of course. What kind of animals?

Kaitlin: Any kind. If she’s asking for Milo, I know that dinosaurs are involved.

(Milo is Bailey’s super cool little boy)

Me: I’ll see what I can do. 

Kaitlin: It’s for a friend who teaches science. Anything appropriate for Middle School.

Me: Are you kidding? That’s my specialty!! Wait, “uh excuse me Mr. Client, but there’s a kid in Columbia who needs some animal dad jokes. Can I call you back later?”

Kaitlin: Ha! Bailey says, “Tell Mr. Client this is PRIORITY ONE!”

Sometimes its the little things that happen throughout the day that refresh your mental health. I’ve heard them referred to as grace notes or serendipity. Whatever you want to call it, these little interruptions have the power to recharge the soul. They can be literally the pause that refreshes. I immediately dropped everything and went to work. Within ten minutes I had sent her this:

The rest of the exchange went like this...

I suppose that the lesson here is, sometimes the most important thing isn’t the most important thing. Sometimes a fifteen text conversation with your adult child can be a golden moment. Sometimes, a sidebar that involves middle school humor is just the thing to steady you for a return into the serious business of your adult life.

Thanks, Bailey and Kaitlin. I needed it.

WELCOME!!

I would like to be the first to congratulate the Month of March for arriving on time as advertised. Those of us who have been held in the vice grip of February could not be happier at your appearance. Although it is raining and gross outside, we are all confident that you will bring much better times to Central Virginia and beyond.

You have many things going for you:

- During your time with us Spring will officially arrive.

- Warmer temperatures will spread over our neighborhoods.

- St. Patrick’s Day.

- Spring training baseball.

- The Masters

- International Women’s Day. Ok, I didn’t even know this was a thing, but if it’s sunny and 70, I’m in.

- Yard work...when the yard finally gets dry enough to actually walk in...and all the preparations required for outdoor living.

March, we have always seen you as a sign of hope. By the end of February, we are all at the end of our ropes, fed up with cold, snow and ice. We have grown weary of leafless trees, colorless skies and dead things. We have become sick and tired of the inside of our homes. The prospect of another snow storm hovers over us like the angel of death. Even the possibility of a snow day no longer brings joy, only aggravation. Our spirits lag every time we see our deck furniture without their cushions. They look naked and afraid, like frail, emaciated prisoners of war, sitting out there alone and worthless. But now you have arrived, the army of liberation.

Yes, we are aware that on relatively rare occasions, snowstorms come during your reign. When they do, they are particularly fierce and devastating to our mental health, coming at a time which seems to all of us completely unfair and unjust. We beseech you to do all in your power to prevent such a catastrophe this year.

Once again, we thank you for your arrival and wish you all the best over these next 31 days. 

Warmly,

Your biggest fans

Sigh...

The view from Syria......

A Chilling Memory

A couple of weeks ago I remembered a story my Dad told me many years ago. I hadn’t thought about it in years. I suppose it came to my mind after reading the news about the posthumous fall from grace of Ravi Zacharias. Many of you will know who RZ was, but for those of you who don’t, he was a brilliant Christian apologist, speaker, debater and philosopher from India who played an enormous role in stabilizing my faith during a time of doubt many years ago. I first saw him when he was at Oxford debating some atheist about the existence of God. I was mesmerized by his eloquence and the intricate patterns of his arguments, using logic and rationality along with an erudite wit that disarmed the largely hostile crowd that packed the hall to hear him. So, all these years later to learn of his personal and moral failings was a blow. It is so strange to me how many times something that my dad had said to me comes flooding back during times of great agitation. The story I am about to relate isn’t complete. I don’t remember every detail. I will have to backfill in places, but the moral of the story I remember with crystal clear certainty...

Back in the early 1960’s, I was a little boy and my dad was a giant. He had moved the entire family from Richmond, Virginia to New Orleans, Louisiana so he could attend The New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary as a 39 year old freshman, the only student on campus with four kids and zero money. During that time Dad was given a church field, a little church in a one horse town called Nicholsville, Alabama. Every Friday night we would make the long drive from New Orleans to Nicholsville, passing through Laurel, Mississippi around the halfway point on Highway 59. I include this detail because it was on Highway 59 just outside of Laurel where our story comes to its shocking conclusion.

There was a young, charismatic preacher from Mississippi back in the early 60’s who was making quite a name for himself in Southern Baptist circles. His name eludes me and I’m not even sure Dad ever told me his name. It would have been like him to leave it out. Anyway, this man was the pastor of a thriving and rapidly growing church, but that church couldn’t contain this man’s ambition or his talent. He was invited to be the revival speaker at every big church in the south it seemed. He even got invited to speak at convocation at the Seminary, such were his gifts as an evangelist. Everywhere he preached, people responded. He was a captivating speaker and mixed with his dynamic personality, the sky seemed the limit.

Then, one day, at the peak of his popularity, it was discovered that he had been having an affair with a young woman who sang in the choir at his church. When the governing body of the church confronted him he refused to repent, claiming that his new love was the work of God. Just like that, his ministry was over. He divorced his wife and left the church to run off with his new girlfriend. Everyone in dad’s circle of friends in Seminary were stunned and disheartened by the news. How could he have done such a thing? It was not only a dark day for those who looked up to the man, but also for the cause of Christ and his Gospel.

But the story didn’t end there. Just a few months after his fall from grace, this man was traveling at night on Highway 59 with his new wife in the passenger seat. They were just outside of Laurel, headed towards Hattiesburg when the front left tire blew out. The man was able to guide the car to a stop just off the road. He got out, walked back to the trunk, lifted the spare out and began changing the tire. Suddenly a speeding 18 wheeler came roaring past. Just before the truck pulled along side the car, a giant piece of tread let loose from one of the wheels, flew through the air and in a blink of an eye, decapitated the dynamic, charismatic young ex-evangelist.

The news spread like wildfire on the campus of New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary. Students began quoting the old prophets in hushed tones...There is a way that seems right to a man, but in the end it brings death. In Dad’s telling the lesson was simple...whatsoever a man sows, that shall he also reap. Dad believed that the calling into ministry was a sacred thing and that with it came a grave responsibility...your walk better match your talk or there would literally be hell to pay. I remember this part like yesterday, Dad turning to me after telling this ghastly tale, “Son...God will not be mocked.”

The good that Ravi Zacharias’ words and deeds did for me was incalculable. Without his intelligent voice during that time in my life, I might have totally abandoned my faith. But to learn of his double life and hypocrisy was crushing. Although he never had to answer for it in this life, I agree with my Dad. With a great calling comes a great responsibility. God will not be mocked.

Dogs of the Culdesac

Lucy’s morning constitutional was adventure-filled. We went out earlier than usual, so it was still dark. As we approached our neighbor’s yard Lucy began to growl towards the general direction of where her buddy, Pippen, usually hangs out. I turned, squinted into the darkness and discovered that Pippen had been replaced by our other neighbor’s giant mastiff, Boss, a lovable lug of a dog who enjoys nothing quite so much as a roughhousing romp with any other dog. So, there I am holding on to Lucy’s leash for dear life as the two of them frolic around in circles, hoping not to do any further damage to my still ailing back. One thing was clear, there would be no doing of business on this adventure. There would be no time for such mundane routines while Boss was around! So, I led Miss Lucy to her fenced in back yard/mud pie and let her loose back there. The paw-cleaning required once she finally finished was extensive.

The culdesac at the end of Aprilbud Place is home to seven dogs, each with their own idiosyncrasies. The aforementioned Pippen is a Golden Doodle who wouldn’t hurt a flea and lives outside 90% of the time, kept in place by one of those electric collar things. All the other dogs love Pippen because he is always there to play with. Then there’s the newest Puppy on the block, a black lab named Tucker, who replaced the recently departed and sainted black lab, Maverick. Next around the circle would be Buddy, a mutt of uncertain origin and grumpy personality, who all the other dogs ignore. Then, there’s the mighty Kane, a huge German Shepherd who’s bark would put the fear of God in any potential burglar dumb enough to try something. Our next door neighbors have two dogs, who when seen together paint a rather comical picture. Boss, the gangly giant goof-ball, along with his wingman, the diminutive Vander, a pug. The two of them always remind me of these guys I used to watch on Saturday mornings when I was a kid...

In the cartoon it was always the small dog who called the shots, with the big dog trying his best to please him. A great example of art imitating life on our little slice of suburbia. Of course, the seventh would be Lucy, the beautiful, psycho dog who’s afraid of literally everything except people and other dogs! Good thing!

Bad Back

Back problems are fun. You wake up one morning and realize the minute your feet hit the floor that something is wrong. There seems to be a giant knot half way between your neck and your waistline on both sides of your spine. This knot makes fully upright walking painful, so you make adjustments in your gait to the point where it is clear to literally every other human being you will encounter on this day that something is wrong with you. You think that a hot shower will help but it doesn’t. The full implications of this back issue don’t become clear until it’s time to brush your teeth. There is no way to perform this crucial part of your daily hygiene regimen without excruciating pain. But you do it anyway because...well, because...ewww!

You take a couple extra strength Tylenol. They do less than nothing. You go through your day walking very slowly, listing slightly starboard, while answering the question everyone never fails to ask, “What happened to you??”  When you arrive home for lunch you take another couple extra strength Tylenol, eat a quick lunch, then plop yourself down slowly into your trusty recliner, and adjust the heating pad perfectly in the center of your ailing back and turn the button on to high. Thirty minutes of this does next to nothing. You head back to the office only now the back feels worse than it has all day. Only trouble is you have two clients coming in back to back. They both arrive on time and watch me walk up to them as they wait out by the receptionist, with a concerned tilt of the head right before they both ask, “Whoa Doug, you’re moving awfully slow there, big guy. What happened to you?”

After my last appointment I head back home, take two more Tylenol—for reasons that remain unclear—then retire once again to my recliner. Only this time, I decide to try ice. I pull the frozen back thingy out of the freezer, wrap it in a dish towel and place it dead center of my now throbbing back and settle down. Again, thirty minutes of this new treatment yields a freezing cold back...that still is as stiff, tight and painful as it has ever been since the first tentative steps of the morning. After a delicious meal prepared by my sainted wife along with a tender massage, I am back upstairs to the recliner. Only now I have taken the first muscle relaxers of the day, the only slightly remedial course of action I have taken all day. The trouble with the muscle relaxers are that taking them in sufficient quantities during the day I have found to be unwise. When you invest money for a living, it is kinda crucial to be in full command of all of one’s faculties, although even that does not insure success. But its better than being so sleepy you can’t put together a simple declarative sentence without a yawn.

This has been happening ever since Monday morning. If the past is prologue, it will continue like this until Saturday or Sunday when, like magic, it will suddenly heal itself and I will be back to normal.

So what do I give as an answer to all the questions I got all day? My wife thinks it has something to do with all the heavy lifting and cleaning I did to help her prepare for the big bridal shower Sunday. Maybe, but who knows? What I tell people is that for many years now I have had a quirky back that acts up every once in a while, for reasons that remain elusive. Its nothing serious and I will be fine in a few days. All true. However, it still sucks. If you’ve never had back problems, say a prayer of thanks for your good fortune. If you have had back problems, I am open to any and all suggestions for home remedies or back pain hacks you would like to pass along!