In the eye of the storm

Hurricane Sandy is fast approaching. The winds howl as torrential rains whip sideways before landing on soggy earth. And yet, I am not panicked. The words of this old hymn remind me I don't go through this exprience alone.

"In the lightning flash across the sky

His mighty power I see,

And I know if He can reign on high

His light can shine on me.

When the thunder shakes the mighty hills

And trembles every tree

Then I know a God so great and strong

Can surely harbor me

I’ve seen Him in the lightning,

Heard Him in the thunder,

And felt Him in the rain;

May Lord is near me all the time

My Lord is near me all the time."

Be safe.

Max

My Lord is Near me all the Time; Barbara Fowler Gaultney; © Baptist Hymnal 1975, Hymn No. 209.

This writing life

Sometimes the muse fades. Sometimes there isn’t a single thought that the writer thinks is worth developing and there’s nothing left to do but walk away from the keyboard.

So it was with me this week, and regrettably I haven’t blogged. My frustration has been so great that, had I been using a typewriter, I would have yanked the sheets of paper from the platen, crumpled them in disgust and tossed them into the trash. Or onto the floor. Or at the head of whoever happened to be passing by at that moment. But I use a computer and computers are not well suited to tossing.

But here’s what I have done:

-          Raked and bagged leaves fallen from the giant maple in the front yard

-          Pulled some weeds

-          Watched too many presidential debates

-          Argued pro and con too many political issues

-          Played Word with Friends with friends

-          Gone to lunch with friends

-          Skyped with friends

-          Read several books to a grandchild

-          Prayed some, sang some, read some, ate some, laughed some

-          And sometimes I just sat.

Maybe inspiration will return tomorrow.

Max

It's about the craftsman, not the tools

Phil is a first-class handyman. There is no task too menial, too large, too cumbersome or too complex for him to tackle. With his home-made, canvas tool belt tied around his middle, he tackles any aspect of home or vehicle or appliance repair, from plumbing, carpentry, and repairing broken windows to tuning lawn mower engines and changing the oil in the family car. There’s only one problem, a problem that only he sees: He never has the right tools. Whatever the project, he stops half way through and walks away in disgust muttering, I can’t do this; I don’t have the right tools. Inevitably he returns, attacks the project with renewed fervor using something he contrived in his workshop, and completes the job.

                Ill-equipped, incompetent, unprepared, and inadequate, are words the enemy uses to instill fear, discomfort and a sense of defeat in all of us. We question our ability, our knowledge and strength to do the job. We wonder if we really are called to serve in a specific place, or if our passion for a particular project is misplaced. We hesitate when opportunities face us and we question the appropriateness of our actions when we move ahead.

God doesn’t ask us to provide the right tools, or the best education, or depth of knowledge or worldly know-how before sending us out to do his work. What he asks is that we make ourselves available to him. [Romans 12:1] He is able to do more with our availability than with our ability. We are the tool he wants to use to accomplish his work.

This childhood song confirms the truth of scripture,  - that God uses committed people regardless of what they have to offer, to accomplish his mighty works.      

Shamgar had an oxgoad (1)

David had a sling (2)

Dorcas had a needle (3)

Rahab had some string (4)

Samson had a jawbone (5)

Aaron had a rod (6)

Mary had some ointment (7)

And they all were used by God.

For further study:

(1)     Judges 3:31; (2) I. Sam. 17:49; (3) Acts 9:36; (4) Joshua 2:15;

(5) Judges 15:15; (6) Ex. 7:9-12; (7) John 12:3       

Re-programming Grammie

Grandson Sonic (he’d be mortified if I mentioned him by name) scooted across the couch and snuggled close. It was nearly bedtime and he was stalling as young boys are likely to do. But it was Friday, and with no school or early appointments scheduled for Saturday, his mother was being lenient with the normally inflexible schedule. It was a tender moment, just he and me, uninterrupted by noises from the television or those annoying electronic games. After a few moments, I leaned over to him and whispered, “It’s almost time to go night-night.”

How could I have known that this simple phrase, used since he was a babe in arms would open the way to his asserting his transition into young-manhood.  

“Grammie, can I talk to you about something?”

I had heard these words before. Sometimes the request was followed by “can we talk in private?” and led to disclosure of an uncomfortable experience in school or on the playground, or for guidance on how to make a request to mom. He didn’t move from his seat and it soon became evident that I would be the subject of this discussion.

“Grammie, will you stop treating me like a baby?”

“Sweetie, how do I treat you like a baby?” I was certain any baby-ing moments were initiated by him.

“You say things like ‘night-night’. That’s baby talk. You could just tell me it’s time to go to bed.

                “Okay,” I agreed, “I won’t say that any more. Anything else?”

                “Don’t call me ‘sweetie’ when my friends are here. It’s embarrassing.”

Thinking back over the events of the afternoon, I recalled he shouted “hi Grammie” to me as I walked past the group earlier, and I called back, ‘hey sweetie’. The truth is, I use words like sweetie, honey, sweetheart, buddy, darling, guys and kids, because I sometimes can’t remember the child’s name in the moment. It’s convenient and quicker than reciting a litany of names in search of the right one.

                “Okay, I won’t,” I agreed. I wondered if other endearments were off limits. “Can I call you ‘buddy’?” He assured me buddy was tolerable. But there was one much more important thing he needed me to understand: I didn't have to shout for Grampa every time I saw a stink bug inside the house. He could take care of stink bugs just as well as Grampa.

             I applauded his willingness to make his wishes known to me. It may take a while, but I shall work on reprogramming my language. I'll miss the special warmth of honey and sweetie tags, but Sonic, as far as I am concerned, you can be the official stink bug killer of every stink bug ever created. 

Sunday Serendipity - Blessed

The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;

 indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.

Psalm 16:6 ESV

Thank you Father. I am eternally grateful.

Lion taming

I participated in a personality quiz the other day. Typically I steer clear of personality quizzes. They all seem to ask the same questions yet arrive at dissimilar conclusions, and the most popular questionnaires compare personality traits to animals, foods, colors, super heroes and cartoon characters. Anyway, I took the quiz. I blame my acquiescence on my tired but mellow state of mind, and the fact that the inventory had been given to me by my Pastor, a man for whom I have great admiration and respect. 

This quiz revealed that I have personality traits similar to that of a LION with secondary traits of an OTTER.  (I’m still trying to figure out that combination).

            This “diagnosis” started me on a trek down memory lane to identify those occasions when my lion-like persona overshadowed my otter side. I recall one occasion when I went out to dinner with several women friends. We were chaperones at a youth convention. (I don’t remember how we lost the youth but I do know the youth were not with us at dinner). The server told us to seat ourselves and pointed out three separate tables. None of the women moved forward, but I remember hearing one woman whisper from behind me, “Let's wait and see how Max handles this.” Challenge! So after a quick survey of the room, I rearranged a few tables and had the ladies seated before the server returned with menus. Lion-like? Maybe, but wouldn’t you do the same?

            Then there was the time I heard a mom screaming in frustration at her 6-ish year old daughter in the toy aisle at Target. I had to intervene. Even as I moved boldly forward I could hear my daughter urging me to “stay out of it, Mom.” I ignored her, of course. It took maybe three minutes to calm Mom and avert what could certainly have escalated into a horribly abusive situation. How many times have parents become frustrated and taken out their anger on poor helpless kids?

I think I like the lion title. Lions take charge. “Lions” make decisions quickly and follow up with action. They speak up; they get things done; they are producers. That’s a good thing, right?

But there are negative aspects of this lion personality too. When a lion is in the vicinity of other animals, the others instinctively run for cover. It is sometimes the same with people. When the take-charge person moves forward, others often retreat. They make no attempt to take on leadership roles assuming there is no need for another leader.  A “lion” in their midst obviates the need to make decisions, to takes chances and, ultimately, to grow. That’s not good.

So for the next month or so, this particular lion aims to try out the personality of a pussy cat (or otter). It means backing off and allowing others the opportunity to take the lead. It means allowing others to float their ideas and follow through, especially when I am convinced that I can get the job done quicker and more efficiently. It means encouraging others to take risk. It means allowing others the opportunity to grow. It's certainly worth trying.

Max

When silence is not golden

Two police officers left some pretty scary information at our house recently: A convicted, sexual predator was being housed at a location within a mile of our home. The officers left a handout with the offender’s name, location and a photograph, and by doing so, fulfilled their responsibility to the law-abiding neighbors.   

What is frightening, and the issue with which I take umbrage, is that community residents are forbidden to [quoting from the flier] “share the flier or information in the flier with anyone outside the immediate household.” The officer explained in further detail: If my friend’s kids come to visit in my home, I can disclose the information to them, but if I see the offender chatting up a child on the street, I may not intervene. My response: “Wanna bet?”

I believe the offender lost his right to anonymity when he committed a crime, was convicted in a court of law, and deemed likely to reoffend. Talk to me about protecting his rights after he has gone through years of rehabilitative therapy. Talk to me after he has been monitored for an extensive period of time and not reoffended, thereby proving his rehabilitation. Talk to me after he has held a job, paid his taxes, volunteered in the community, and earned the public trust.   

If I am truly my brother’s keeper, I have no option but to warn my friends and neighbors about this predator’s presence. I will immediately intervene if he is hanging around a child, or a school, or the neighborhood swimming pool, or lurking outside the karate studio. Time and again, the long arm of the law has proven to be too short and too slow to enforce imposed restrictions. Let’s not forget that Megan Kanka’s murderer had two previous convictions but was allowed to continue living in her community without adequate supervision. I say it’s time we start considering the rights of law-abiding citizens and remember that law-breakers have abdicated theirs.     

Remain silent? I think not.

Max

10 things to do before winter sets in

It’s fall. I know this because the leaves in the large maple in the front yard are turning yellow, the garden stores have received their first shipment of mums, the last three tomatoes on the vine are refusing to ripen, and the crickets are looking for a warm corner inside my house. So I am making a list of the top 10 things I need to accomplish before winter sets in.

1.    Winterize the vegetable garden. What that really means is, make a list of chores for husband to winterize the garden.   

2.    Close the pool. Translation - call the pool people and have them close the pool. 

3.    Visit Mom in Florida. Haven’t seen her in several months and she no longer wants to deal with the hassles of flying. (I think I’ll wait a few more weeks until the weather here turns cooler, then I’ll really enjoy Florida). 

4.     Prepare the house for fall. Pack away summer dishes, beach towels, deck umbrella, insect repellent and sun block; put out fall-themed pillows, wreaths, and spice-scented candles. 

5.    Update the Christmas card mailing list. (Surely I’m not the only one who hasn’t resorted to online greeting cards?)   

6.     Prepare first draft of the family Christmas letter. I like to receive them, so I have to send them.

7.     Plan a long weekend trip to see the grandkids. It’s been too long since their summer visit.  

8.     Mow the grass one last time. 

9.     Begin drafting my 2013 bucket list. 

10.    

  

What have I missed? Please share your suggestions for number 10.

Max

A Benefit? To whom

Friend was recently downsized from her government job. Friend followed procedures and registered for unemployment benefits - an entitlement, having worked for a substantial period of time. Said benefits, she discovered, do not include health insurance coverage.

            So tell me, why should this person or any other hard-working, land-of-the-free-and-home-of-the-brave American citizen begin the process of seeking further employment when unemployed, non-citizens are being awarded insurance benefits at no cost to themselves?

            I'd like to hear what you think.