a bad day to be a fish

imagine…if you will…that you have the intelligence of a fish. why? because, my dear friend, that is your brain on public education.

now, imagine, if you will, that you have spent a long futile day attempting to cross the lip of a pond edge to another inlet where the water appears….appears…to be more pleasant, more tasty…with tasty things floating around in it.

you squirm your way to the edge and hit dry land…and find the pebbles irritating your scales as you try to push across the small piece of land and into the most glorious looking bright shiny water you have ever seen…since you last had a conscious thought about geographic locations.

but…you have no hands, you have no feet, you are a fish. and it is a really bad day to be a fish.

so bad, you have decided not to be a fish.

you would rather be a seal. or a porpoise. or a proctologist. you would prefer to be a creature with legs…to go anywhere you want…to do anything you want…even if they had to be hairy.

but as you lie there imagining…some wise guy will come along, pick you up, and throw you in the trash can…

so thank God you are not a fish. worse yet, you could have been created a weasel…and had weasel breath. isn’t it good to know that your chances of amounting to anything here on this blue-brown-green spinning ball are infinitesimally more likely than that of your standard blue whale, your average red snapper, and even you most delicious sea bass?

sure, you may have a bad day…or two.. or several thousand. that never entitles you to become an ugly, loathing, ten-toed sloth, moping your life away because you think No One on planet Earth seems to care if you live, die, or play Ultimate Pokémon. things could be worse…oh yes, they could be worse. you could be married to the Cat From Hell, live alone in a hammock tent all winter and have icy butt syndrome, or be married to someone who has all the warmth of an Angela Merkel. you are infinitely more valuable to the Universe than you can imagine.

you are too complex to be an accident.

who me?

are you breathing? are you alive?

you know there is no one else in this world who looks like you, who sounds like you, who even smells like you. how could you be an accident? you were no surprise to your creator – you were planned by forces higher than hormones and the wrong time of the month.

it is a good day to be a human…even if it is a bad day to be a fish.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

looking up…not down

when the mud is so thick

and the world is so cold

look to the heavens

to that city of Gold,

your reward awaits you

for all those long nights

you prayed for a miracle

for wrongs to become rights,

for all those long seasons

when hope kept you from fear

and you walked in the grey-light

your angels were there near,

for God has been watching,

indeed, God has been true,

so keep your eyes to the heavens

until God sees you through.

 

 

 

 

 

 

ponnd lyffe

have you ever met an individual capable of explaining the scientific processes which enable the whatever-system of a pond to not only exit, but to thrive, during the most breathtakingly dull phases of winter weather?

it is as scintillating as a songbird singing among the seagulls along a seashore on a unseasonally sunny day.

but better.

this is the stuff of dreams, lads, the fiber of intellect that moves men (and that other, softer and much more lovely sex) to become rational geniuses…to transcend the lowly horizontal thinker with a reason so pure, so devoid of subjectivity, as to be on a plane above the clouds…

but better.

it is the stuff of “I started this company with a hamster cage and a $4 dollar bill” legend…almost as good as being the shadow of Stephen Hawking (whose shadow, during a particularly shadowy kind of day, might be as brilliant as to handle a conversation with Siri, where he can convince her that she is a missing link in the evolutionary chain).

but better.

these scientific masters of the visually-unseen often pass beyond the realm of the low- information-citizen through government-funded discoveries. it is because of these superior intellectual funds that such geniuses are able to describe the world of pond scum with such accuracy that they do not have to sample any objects from that pond life. but this is just a fraction of their intellectual prowess…for their real talent lies in their dead-on description of all phases of the male brain, and the more stimulating female brain, even though their own lives are spiritually-challenged.

but better

so spiritually-challenged that these rational thinkers base their evidence on faith in an irrational premise, which completely invalidates every work that they might produce for human consumption. which is why, as of this moment, I have never met a scientist who had as rational a theory on life, let alone pond scum, as a 12 year old girl obsessed with her butt-crack (not to be confused with good craic). in fact, I have met a few pre-pubescent students who had a better understanding of the facts of life than a high school science teacher with 20 years experience filling the minds of dumbed-down youth. I have even heard a five year old describe the meaning of life with more spiritual sense than a Nobel Prize winning author…

but even better…

leave pond life a mystery…because life should have some mysteries, or it would not be quite as exciting. and so, while I appreciate the attempt by some to try to explain the behavior of pond scum, policemen, women, and tadpoles…

it is better to go out and live life to the fullest and ignore those who produce massive amounts of mental manure in the form of scientifically funded government research studies.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the silence is shattered- looking into the eyes of the graying

the silence speaks volumes

the gray is something inside you, not really an exterior feature. i have seen gray-eyes, there is a certain void in them. an oncologist, a psychologist – whatever the label- needs no tests to prove what the mind can gather from a fraction of a glance in the right direction. when a hope is lost, another cracked plate crumbles, falls to the floor. the silence mutters, the silence matters. but the silence is shattered.

i once built a monstrosity out of lego bricks and flew them around on a pie plate in the living room. i was a child, and i thought freedom existed in more planes than what i was told in school. the horizons glowed golden, burnished bronze, burned in hues no earthly name could decipher…and did not decay, and did not gray. there was no gray world, no gray mind. no “i cannot do that today or any day.” the gray was safely buried inside the dimmed eyes of those who had precious little left. i was not one of them, nor would I ever reach their shore.

but the world would like to sandwich you into that place, at a certain age. if it was hazy, i could understand. but it isn’t. it is not subtle. there is a time when you find a stare means something much less than it did the day before, the week before, or even the month before. lines were never mentioned in a list of wonderful things, and the more gravity pulls, the more likely the world turns away. i have seen the sad faces of the lost and few, the bitter and withdrawn, the ones settling into the gray. it doesn’t frighten me as much as anger me. and the silence is shattered.

it wasn’t so long ago i had more faith in machines, and even men and women. the kind who greet you in the morning, pass by you at the grocery, wave hello as you drive past. but i am noticing fewer, as my days grow. fewer and fewer. and even some of them have gone gray in their twenties- gray in heart, gray in mind; a world nailed shut into a box without hope. something is wrong with their prayers…they are not verbal, not even gestured anymore.

it is not for me to say i will not pass this way again…or any way. nor to sense the weight of sadness that runs like seeping tears from the face of the aging. i remain awake,  and my days a scribbling yet. no chapter end, no intermission, no annotation in another’s playground.

no matter what comes, love continues, faith continues, and even hope. for without hope, there is nothing. no passion for even breathing. i have seen too many crawl their way in the alleyways of gray, to huddle in the evening of another spent-out warm decay. and i wonder…how so many dim the lights until nothing moves them, not even the breeze that comes to kiss them goodnight.

the silence is shattered, but i will look to the one who gives peace in the silence…and go on another night, knowing that there is more than what is inside their box, inside their game, and i will live it to the fullest, until  the wind of God brings me home again.

have you lost your way in those big bad woods?

 

have you lost your way in the big bad woods of life? have you found yourself face to face with an unexpected sign? 

try giving up, giving in to God.

“God, I can’t do this anymore. I give you the car keys to my life.”

 

Justice and mercy

I struggle with diabetes. Many years ago, I worked in a high stress, high performance, high profile career that contributed to a food and health lifestyle that lead to the development of that diabetes. It didn’t help that I made my own bread, pasta, and pancakes. Or started the morning with a mountain dew and a couple of candy bars.

When I came into the office in the morning, before we went out to work, everybody else was sleepy, waking up. I was zigging one liners, feeling totally off-the-wall. And, sometimes, I felt out of control, like I couldn’t stop being goofy. I had no idea I had high sugar levels. No one in the family had it…

I say all of this to say that this morning I have an A1C test, a particular blood sugar test diabetics would quickly recognize. I had been doing better, but a diet high in vegetables, low fat, and some fruit, with occasional forages with lean meat, is very difficult for a guy who grew up eating hamburgers, pasta, and potatoes nearly everyday for years.

So, I have listened to the doctor, studied on my own, and read the Word. It is the latter that I now know is the place to start in fighting this disease. The Word speaks of living a life that is not fast-paced, not high-stress, and requires vigilance.

It is not just what we eat that brings on diabetes. It is also how we think, how we live, where we live, what we do for work…so many factors effect health. In light of my present circumstances, I have more time to contemplate that Word. In essence, I am fighting diabetes, but also need to be sure of God’s direction- I am job searching.

How then shall we live?

What is required of us is  this: to do justice, love kindness (some versions say “mercy”), and walk humbly with God. (Micah 6:8)

*You cannot work in a high stressed job where people want you to manipulate people and “do justice.”

*Mercy (or kindness) does not include a job where we treat the poor with contempt. Being kind and merciful, walking humbly with God, would quickly bring a conflict there.

*A job that encourages senseless wealth accumulation at the expense of others cannot conform to this Word.

I would appreciate your thoughts, comments, and reflections.

And you thought you had problems…

I am breathing. I ate something today. I have a place to stay.

Maybe my world looks “turned upside down,” but I still walk on a path right-side-up with a God who already knows what I need. The haters who tried to destroy me haven’t destroyed me. I do not know how God will provide, or where exactly He will take me…but I know what I have come through, and I know He will see me through.

What does your world look like tonight? Does it feel upside-down?

People will let you down, but God will never let you down. That doesn’t mean you might not suffer. That doesn’t mean you might not experience some things beyond your comprehension. But I can attest that God will listen, if you humble yourself. That also means forgiving  every one who has hurt you- every one.

The world may not look right-side-up for some time, but if we seek God with all our hearts, communicating with God, our world will change. Mine has in the past, so I expect He will change it in the near future.

Riding On The Retro Line

Japan is testing a 300 mile an hour train that is shaped more like an anteater than any train I’ve seen. They regularly travel at much higher speeds than what American trains do, and money is spent on rail infastructure.

Meanwhile, back here in the USA, or DSA (Dysfunctional States of America), the fastest regularly scheduled trains run at 135 miles per hour, traveling just 35 miles somewhere in the Northest- in the New England area.

Not that I really enjoy traveling at warp speed while trying to drink a bottle of soda pop (fizzy drink), but I feel more and more like my part of the USA- in particular- is looking and feeling like RetroLand. Traveling by train here is like a nice early 1900’s industrial age vacation into the past on a quiet weekend afternoon. Normally, this suits me, since I am a romantic. Yet, trying to get anywhere far away in a hurry in the States has become a quagmire in bureaucracy. But that argument is for another time…

There is something to be said about preserving a pace of life that is slower, more purposeful, and more traditional. I am speaking of rail, not flying. Slow speed rail encourages us to spend time savoring the view, conversing with a neighbor, and contemplating life…which is certainly difficult to do at 300 miles an hour…

 

A detour on the way to destiny

I’ve heard enough preachers in my day to do a full two hour stand-up routine with about every variety and denomination featured. I’ve heard some great phrases, one liners, and simple truths in those sermons too. I’ve boogied for Jesus with the grooviest dudes in Hackensack, and have sung a nasal chorus with Brother Moses the cross-eyed preacher, in a building so deep in the black hole of Nowhere, it lacked a sign, a heating source, and indoor plumbing. I’ve watched a deranged man coo at his congregation until one man nearly fell off his seat in laughter. And I have heard such a powerful sermon that throngs of people were affected. I’ve sat under the best, and I’ve heard the worst. You could say I have seen and heard a mighty big crowd of witnesses in my time.

So when I say I have been on that “detour on the way to destiny, more than once,” I am hoping I’m not using another preacher’s sacred sermon phrase. That detour on the way to destiny has caused a lot of problems in life. I have seen it in my own, when I missed a road sign from heaven and ended up in the second best football field ever. Now, I’m heading for that best football field ever. Too bad the fog was too thick to see the gate entrance until now…

But now I have my ticket…

It seems strange to the world, but God does work in such unusual ways that it confuses those who do not know Him. They’ll think that they are running the show, they are destroying their enemy, but in reality…..God will take their evil and twist it around for our good- for those who love the Lord and are called according to His purpose. The Imposters, and the ones following their own selfish desires….think they have a victory when everything seems to be going their way. But then something impossible will happen- the one following after God’s heart will suddenly come through the mess on the other side with a better job, better living conditions, a better group of people to work with, a better home, a better wife or husband, a better day to day existence, and even a better reputation, You can count on those poor unrepentant sinners scratching their heads till Judgment day…unless something changes.

I’m going through what seems like an impossible situation…but God has already promised me a victory and a new situation better than what I have had before now. If He will do it for me, He will do it for you. You have to “put all your chips on the table,” telling God “you’re all in.” When you move all of your trust over to God, like in poker when you put all those chips on the table, it is no longer you trying figure it out.

Think about it…then go do something about it….and you’ll be blessed…(no, no pastor’s quote there, just yer man from the mountains).

PS I don’t play poker, but when I was younger…

Diagnosis: Hope

Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. The word “hope” here goes way beyond the same concept of  “hope” we have in English because it is literally “a knowing assurance based on spiritual truth as evidence.” But one can only operate in that kind of hope with a mindset that is literally “renewed.” How else can you place faith in something impossible to everyone else around you? When you’ve been told there is no hope, there is only hope to line yourself up in the place God calls righteousness. That only comes in a right relationship with God. And a right relationship can be tenuous unless it is fed that substance called faith.

The bible states that it is impossible to please God without faith. Living a life of faith requires trust in what many will call crazy. But, you know what? I would rather be called crazy than miss out on all the blessings God has for me.