Moments

Yesterday I didn't have a lot of time for my swim. My plan called for 1.2 mile swim but I wasn't sure I could get it all in before having to leave for another commitment. Going right at it, I struck a good turnover, hoping to hold that until I got at least a large portion of my swim done before having to leave. The pace continued. I never stopped; never slowed up, done. The 1.2 miles were covered and I still felt strong. Upon reflection, I felt a special thankfulness that I can do that. Ten years ago or more, when I swam my first mile, I had to stop and recoup several times. It was painfully much slower than my swim today. Amazing. I am over ten years older and can swim longer and harder now. God has been so good to me. And it made me think. If my swimming can get better with age, if my best swimming years had been before me, then what else much greater can the Lord have in store for me? It might not be in the physical realm, but I believe God will keep His prom...

"Be the man you have always wanted to be," That is the wording of some spam sent to me, suggesting I get their product to pump up my masculinity, so to speak. I smiled. But something about the phrase made me think a little deeper. Am I the man I have always wanted to be? Setting aside the masculinity stuff, I pondered the question. I thought back over all I have done; all the places within and without that I have been, and the direction I am heading; the path I am on. Am I the man I have always wanted to be? Goodness! But I have taken a lot of wrong turns; done some things I needed a lot of forgiveness for. I have made enough mistakes and fallen often enough that I just have to laugh at myself. But, I have been forgiven and I have bee freed; picked up and set aright, and put back on course. Now, with most of my lifetime behind me, and my days drawing closer to the finish line. It brings forth the vision of me at the end of a race. It is night. Lights are beaming...

"Come see me” Nick used to say. He would look up at me with a smile that spoke of an admiration he had for me. It’s heavy to be looked up to. Sometimes it seems I can only maintain while fearing to fail and disappoint someone: or worse, turn them from the faith. I would hope that anyone who chose to look up to me would see my frailties and my scars too. Nick was not the church favorite, but he was usually there willing to help. However, no one really wanted him to. I don't know, maybe Nick wasn't churchy enough or just wasn't part of the group. Nick was different. He was a Viet Nam veteran and the experience had taken its toll; his weathered face spoke volumes of the sordid life he had led. His family had more or less disowned him when he became a street person. Now he was living in a run down, falling down trailer back in the woods not far from the church. The road to his house was an adventure trek. Once I did try to go see him but it had rained and...

I have had a substantial garden for over 30 years. You might say at one time we practically had a truck farm, here. It is a lot of work but there is something about taking an area of brush and weeds and through care and cultivation, make the land say vegetables. This is not my concept. Henry David Thoreau in his book Walden tells of the experience of taking a weed patch near his cabin and making it say beans. And one thing that I have found is that the same moist, fertile, and loamy soil that can grow great vegetables, is an equally great medium to grow weeds. So, a part of gardening is hoeing and pulling weeds, to relieve the competition for space, light, and nutrients from the purposed plants I want to grow and bear fruit. Life can be like that. We can turn areas of brush and weeds into fertile areas of our lives through cultivation, hoeing and pulling out the competing weeds. Once pulled or hoed, the weeds will try to come back. “The price of freedom is eternal...

Soldier's Prayer "I asked God for strength, that I might achieve. I was made weak, that I might learn humbly to obey. I asked for health, that I might do greater things. I was given infirmity, that I might do better things. I asked for riches, that I might be happy. I was given poverty, that I might be wise. I asked for power that I might have the praise of men. I was given weakness, that I might feel the need of God. I asked for all things, that I might enjoy life. I was given life, that I might enjoy all things. I got nothing that I asked for but got everything I had hoped for. Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered. I am, among all people, most richly blessed." {found on page 536 of The War Between the States}

The baby bird was barely alive. The children felt a need to take it inside, give it water, and try to nurture it back to health. The baby bird died. The children were very sad and couldn’t understand why it had to die. An adult put the baby bird in a one half of a plastic Easter egg . “We can close the egg up and bury the bird right here in the flower garden,” the children were told. “Bury him in my plastic Easter egg?” the child asked. Can we take him out of the egg, and bury him in something else so I can have my egg back?” We have all the sounds and symbols of compassion down pretty good. And we can be moved with pity – that is - unless it were to cost us something: unless it costs us one our plastic Easter eggs. A child’s plastic egg viewpoint might be understood, but could it be we are more and more becoming more in love with what we have that is plastic, more impressed by our own bells and whistles than loving our neighbors as ourselves. Do we ever reall...

The time of the bloom when a rush of nature’s beauty bursts forth. The preparation through youth and inexperience culminate in the bloom of life. That special time when health and vigor peak in our lives: when the petals of our flower open to consummate in beauty and ultimately bear fruit, then wither to die, leaving a seed of legacy, bearing bloom instructions for the next generation. As an aging-up athlete and child of God, I can see this in myself. As my bloom fades into history, I can look toward others just blooming and appreciate - live the bloom vicariously within, and praise God for the bloom, the fruit. For now, I am an old dead plant, stiff, and brown, standing against the winter in life, as if to say I am still sturdy. I bloomed in my time. My empty seed husk bears witness my life bore fruit in due season. And, my life is still speaking, still growing my legacy in that I am still standing; still remembering my bloom-time; counting my blessings; praising ...