Doing My Homework

So, if you attend Hope Church or watch the livestream you will understand what follows. If not, hopefully it will still be meaningful and encouraging. For the past two Sunday’s our Pastor, David Dwight, has us examining the longings of the soul. As sermons go, these past two have gotten pretty thick into the theological weeds, but sometimes that’s exactly what I need. Not all the time, but sometimes. Anyway, this past Sunday he was talking about why humans are so prone to worry, why we are so anxious about everything. After examining some of the reasons for our perpetual angst, he read the following verse from the 4th chapter of Philippians and offered it to us as a possible remedy…

“Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable— if anything is excellent or praiseworthy, think about such things.”

I was never great at doing my homework back in the day. There was always much more fun alternatives for my time back then. As a fully grown man I’m not much better at homework. But for some reason last night I sat down in my library, took out a yellow pad and listed all the highlighted words from the above verse down the left side of the page. Then I cleared all the frustrations and resentments of the day out of my head as best I could. Then I sat out to actually do what the Apostle Paul asked us to do…I started to think about these eight things. Whatever popped in my head I wrote down on the right side of the page. Here’s what it looked at after thirty minutes or so…

True…..The reliable laws of physics, a reminder of a reliable creator.

Noble…The soldier who throws himself on a live grenade to save his platoon.

Just…..Atticus Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird.

Pure….The devotion and loyalty of a dog.

Lovely..The window boxes full of flowers that adorn every business on the streets of Camden, Maine.

Admirable…The homeless man who found a wallet with $600 inside, then tracked down the owner and returned it.

Excellent…Ted Williams’ 1941 season.

Praiseworthy…The steadfast, undying love of Jesus.

This morning, my list was different in a couple places. The entire exercise has been a huge encouragement to me because it has reminded me just how many things in my life qualify to be included on this list. It has calmed my spirit, eased my anxiety a little. I hope this doesn’t end up being one of those things that works so well I stop doing it! I’m kinda famous for that.

Give this a try tonight or first thing in the morning.

Pondering Lewis Before Dawn

I’ve found that when you’re up at 4:30 in the morning, strange thoughts come to mind. Like…when you lose a job at the Fire Department, do you get fired or do you just get put out? How about this…have you ever wondered what Mount Rushmore looked like before it was carved? Would the natural beauty be described as…Unpresidented? Or, suppose your wife sent you all over town looking for her favorite paper towels? Would that make you a bounty-hunter?

Yes, being up at this hour isn’t easy. On the other hand you get to hear bad news before any of your friends. I suppose there’s something to be said for being the early bird. At least its quiet. You have plenty of time to pray for people going through rough times. I’ve never been good at the whole pray without ceasing thing. I can’t do anything without ceasing. But prayer comes easy at four in the morning. Plus, when you’re occupied with intercession for others, you forget about your own crap, at least for fifteen minutes, and that’s considerably better than nothing.

A couple of days ago at a similarly ridiculous hour of the morning I ran across the famous C.S. Lewis quote:

“If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.”

It has been ping-ponging around in my head ever since. Part of it rings true to me. There has always been within me that great unscratched itch, an unexplained longing for something, I know not what. But the other part of Mr. Lewis’ quote is off-putting. I don’t want to think of myself as someone “not of this world.” I kinda like this world. It’s my home. Being uncomfortable as an Earthling is seriously problematic. It’s where we live and have our being. It would seem to me that we need to make the best of it! But, there’s no denying that Lewis is on to something here. If you’ve read any of his work you know that C.S. Lewis is always on to something. The man always is on the short list of people from history who I would love to have dinner with. Speaking of which, here’s my top ten in no particular order:

1. Thomas Jefferson

2. Alexander the Great

3. C.S. Lewis

4. Winston Churchill

5. Wolfgang A. Mozart 

6. Queen Elizabeth I

7. Satchel Paige

8. The Apostle Paul

9. General George Patton

10. Jimmy Stewart

Enough of this rambling nonsense. It’s now time to get cracking. At 4:00 this afternoon the stock market will shut down for 65 hours, and I will be able to breathe a little.

Consider the Lilies

This has been a week. Work pressures have been rising to a boil. Yesterday I had my first migraine in probably six or seven years. Last night I hardly slept. All week I’ve been pondering something my Pastor said in his message Sunday. Then today, we had the Federal Reserve Chairman Show which whipsawed the market while I was on the road between turning down money from a client and a doctor’s appointment. Like I said, its been a week.

So I walk out onto the patio late this afternoon amidst all of the tumult that life has become these past few days and am astonished by this…

Don’t ask he what kind of flower it is. All I know is that it is part of one of those overpriced plant and flower arrangements they sell at Strange’s. I paid a ridiculous amount of money for it back in April or May to Pam’s great delight, then sat it out on the patio and neglected it all summer. While we were in Maine, the kids next door were charged with watering it along with everything else we wanted to keep alive while we were away. Despite our indifferent care, it thrives still in mid September. This particular bloom is nearly five feet high, and caught my eye as I walked down the deck steps. I took a closer look, examining all the rich detail of the thing, and was mesmerized by the intricacy, the vibrant, glowing color and the symmetric artistry. All the while, life has been speeding by, buffeting us from all sides, but out in my back yard, this lonely plant has not been deterred from becoming what it was created to be…a work of art. It matters not if we gaze upon it, whether or not we even acknowledge it doesn’t have the slightest effect. This flower has been out here night and day, under blue skies and darkest night, withstanding rain, hail, drought and neglect. And it has done it all just so this thing of astonishing beauty would spring forth and catch the eye of a besieged 64 year old man feeling sorry for himself. I stood there for several minutes, then snapped this photograph to remind myself of the moment. As I did a verse from one of the Gospels writers came to mind, the words of Jesus:

…Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither labor nor spin; but I tell you, not even Solomon in all of his glory clothed himself like one of these. Now, if God so clothes the grass of the field which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the furnace, how much more will he clothe you? Oh you of little faith…

Get Over Yourselves!

Is this even real? Never in my entire life have so many obsessed so much over something so moronic as the British Royal family, especially the two biggest grifters in history—Harry and Meghan. Of course, I suppose I should be grateful. At least somebody finally managed to knock Donald Trump off the front pages.

Commercials Today…

I suppose that this particular Blog post should come with a warning of sorts like… Mature content…or…some of what follows might be inappropriate for certain audiences. Its not that I will be telling off-color jokes or talking about pornography or anything. Its more like…well, I’ll just start and see how it goes.

So, a few weeks ago Pam and I found a really good show to watch called The Split. Its on Hulu and stars Nicola Walker, one of our favorite actresses. 

The show is about dealing with divorce and marital betrayal and everything that goes with it. It’s terrifically written and brilliantly acted and features a long list of characters who go about making hash of their lives while desperately needing Jesus…but this blog is not about the show. Its about what Pam and I have had to endure while watching the show.

I mentioned that this show was on Hulu. Well that means that about every 12 minutes we have to watch 2 minutes of commercials. As has always been the case with Hulu, that means we see essentially the same six commercials over and over and over again. Whatever. I guess something has to pay the bills. And yes, we can mute the sound every 12 minutes and sometimes we do. But once you’ve seen some of these ads they are forever etched in your memory’s hard drive, and  impossible to erase. What commercials am I referring to, you’re probably wondering? Here goes…

The pharmaceutical industry has identified and sat out to eradicate the plague of Peyronies Disease, an ailment about which I knew nothing before seeing the ad. But now I will always and forever know that Peyronies Disease is a deformation of the male sex organ which results in odd and uncomfortable looking shapes down there…illustrated by a bent carrot.

 I’m not sure I will ever look at a carrot in the same way, having seen the laughably absurd use of the formerly innocent vegetable as a prop for their new miracle cure. The first time the spot aired, Pam and I looked at each other with a mixture of horror and embarrassment, unsure which of us should be more embarrassed. With each successive viewing of this ad, we just roll our eyes and laugh.

Next, we are informed that studies show that our nether regions, even after a proper shower return to their odiferous selves 75% faster than they would have had we simply used the brand new Butt Deodorant by Lume. In case confused viewers might have been wondering where and how this bum cream was to be applied, a smiling actress shared the directions to us with helpful hand motions. I sincerely believe that had I been eating anything at the time that I watched this ad for the first time, I might have spewed it across the room. The thing I can’t get out of me head is…who has the job of verifying just how good or bad the test bums smelled in that study they referred to. I mean, what would you call that job??

Then there are two other ads which I can never really keep apart since they both are pharmaceutical commercials featuring various treatments for HIV related issues, so half the ad is some guy droning on and on about all the ghastly side effects with images of gay and lesbian couples canoodling while performing a series of routine household chores.

Sometimes while watching these ads I think about the kinds of commercials that dominated television when I was a kid. The most embarrassing ad I ever remember was stupid old Mister Whipple imploring his customers not to Squeeze the Charmin. I’m sure there were other embarrassing ones too. But, I’m pretty sure that this bent carrot thing or the hand tutorial for the butt cream ad would never have made their way on to television screens back then. Thank God in heaven. I can’t imagine the horror of being in the same room as my parents watching Gunsmoke when either of these ads came on. I would have died from embarrassment.

Then it occurs to me that there is probably an algorithm that determines which ads are sent to which homes at Hulu. If so, who do these people think we are? What are they trying to suggest to us? Hmmm….

The Adventures of Running in the Neighborhood

Ok, since my son roped me into signing up for the upcoming Richmond Marathon in November, I have begun training in earnest. First of all I should point out that I am only running an 8K—because I am not an idiot—but even that requires preparation. So, there I was yesterday morning heading out for a 4 mile run. My plan was not to run through the neighborhood loop, but to venture out to a track I have come up with that takes the sidewalks surrounding Wythe Trace. I made the turn onto Center Ridge, then the left onto Hazel Tree. That’s when it got crazy.

I’m trucking along, mind racing with suicidal thoughts—my default thought pattern while running—when all of a sudden a black shadow darted out from behind a trash can to my left, right in front of me. It was making a grunting sound and nearly knocked me over. Since I had my cell phone in my hand, I somehow had the presence of mind to snap a photograph…

I have never seen a black pug in the neighborhood before. There are two white ones who live next door to me, Van and Rookie, but this guy I had never seen before. He seemed thrilled at the sight of me, running like a maniac all around me as I continued my pace forward. This was a timed run after all, and I wasn’t about to let this mutt stop me. So as I ran I offered several verbal commands to the pup ordering him to cease and desist. But he was having none of it. He continued to run circles around me as fast as his little stubby legs would carry him. But there was a problem. I was rapidly approaching Pump Road. Surely this dog would turn around and head back where he came from soon. Not a chance. When I turned onto Pump, Killer came with me! He would run ahead maybe 30 feet or so, then turn around and race back towards me darting this way and that like some sawed off whirling dervish. Since Killer was showing zero interest in going home, I had a decision to make. If I continued my route there was an excellent chance that this pup would get hit by a car. Since I didn’t want a dead Pug on my conscience, I abruptly bailed on my scheduled track, reversed course and heading back to the relative safety of the neighborhood, Killer in tow, all without once breaking stride! This is clearly illustrated by the following…

At this point I reasoned that when we both passed by the trash can from which he had introduced himself, Killer would peal off back into his yard and that would be that. Nope. He was just having entirely too much fun. He stayed with me, tongued flapping wildly out of his grinning mouth, all the way to Summer Stream Drive when fortunately he was distracted by another runner heading in the opposite direction. I never saw him again.

I suppose that the lesson is, keep a sharp eye out for Killer if you decide to run early in the morning in Wythe Trace. 

Fresh Worry

My day began at 4:25 am. At least that’s what the clock across the room said as I got close enough to see it on my way to the bathroom. It was a fitful night. The number of things racing through my mind lately seem almost infinite. As a result sleep has been very hit or miss. Whenever I wake up after 3:30 or so there’s no point in trying to go back to sleep. Good thing I have this blog.

During the day, the pressures of my profession ebb and flow. During times of high “flow” I have grown accustomed to taking short diversion breaks, no more than a minute or two in duration to distract myself. One of them is the game Words With Friends, which I play with only one other person, an old friend from my Grove Avenue days. I’ll pull the game up on my cell phone and fire a word at her, then put the phone down and get back to my work. Whatever gets you through the day.

Yesterday was another friend’s birthday, or so I was informed in the wee hours of the morning. This provided me with another distracting coping mechanism for the rest of the day. At regular intervals throughout the day I would pause and think of old age jokes, then post them on Facebook…

You’re so old you knew Burger King when he was just a Prince.

You’re so old, the key on Ben Franklin’s kite was to your first apartment.

You’re so old you sat behind Jesus in 2nd grade.

You’re so old you’ve used Preparation A thru G.

You’re so old when you were born the Dead Sea was only sick.

Between these time-wasting side shows I managed to get some things accomplished. I completed my entire 2022 Firm Element Compliance regime between 11:00 and 3:30, managed to calm the fears of two clients, compose and edit a client letter for submission to legal for review, and eat lunch at a new-to-me Greek joint near Staples Mill and Broad where I discovered the epicurean delights of a Gyro Pizza. 

Then I arrive at home only to discover a fresh source of angst, a difficulty which one of my adult children is going through, and about which I am powerless. Honestly, this situation is worse than any work-related anxiety because it involves one of my kids. One of the things nobody ever tells you when you’re out there having babies is that one day thirty-plus years later you’ll still be losing sleep worrying about them. You desperately want to swoop in and save the day, but you can’t. It’s not your fight anymore. Well…it is but you no longer have jurisdiction. So you go to bed with something new dancing around in your head thinking of how you would fix it if you were King. But you’re not King.

You’re not even a Prince.