A vision of peace

Sometimes the words of others need no editing. Henri Nouwen has, for many years, blessed me through his profound writings. I still regret that his life was cut short just at the time when he was sharing his most powerful insights. One shelf in my library is nearly full of his books; each one is a treasure. These words are appropriate during this holy season of the year:

Anticipating the Vision . . . "The marvelous vision of the peaceable Kingdom, in which all violence has been overcome and all men, women, and children live in loving unity with nature, calls for its realisation in our day-to-day lives. Instead of being an escapist dream, it challenges us to anticipate what it promises. Every time we forgive our neighbor, every time we make a child smile, every time we show compassion to a suffering person, every time we arrange a bouquet of flowers, offer care to tame or wild animals, prevent pollution, create beauty in our homes and gardens, and work for peace and justice among peoples and nations we are making the vision come true.

We must remind one another constantly of the vision. Whenever it comes alive in us we will find new energy to live it out, right where we are. Instead of making us escape real life, this beautiful vision gets us involved." from Bread for the Journey: A Daybook of Wisdom and Faith, by Henri Nouwen

Rather than focus on all that is negative, e.g., fighting the crowds, arranging for family gatherings, "having" to send Christmas cards to certain people, etc., let us choose to make a positive change in the lives of others. The wonder of it all is that we, in turn, become blessed. We find peace and joy. We remember why we belong to the Lord, and we rejoice in what we have rather than what we do not have.

May this week go well for you. Be at peace!

“To friend or unfriend; that is the question.”

“A friend knows the song in my heart and sings it to me when my memory fails.”
~ Donna Roberts

“What is a friend? A single soul dwelling in two bodies.”
~ Aristotle

“A friend is a gift you give yourself.”
~ Robert Louis Stevenson

“Social networking” is a self-explanatory term. Picture a spider web and the myriad connections; then imagine your network of friends that has resulted from simply being in close relationship with others as we go through life. For many, there are hundreds of connections. This fact begs the question, “How do we maintain quality relationships with so many people?”

For most people this is impossible, but the trend is to add more and more friends to our Facebook and MySpace accounts . . . hundreds and even thousands, in some cases.

It is most interesting, therefore, that the New Oxford American Dictionary has chosen unfriend as its 2009 Word of the Year. If you unfriend someone, you remove them from your friend list on your social network. This is a rather easy step, but the consequences can be long-lasting. No one wants to be unfriended, for this means that we are being cut off and that, for whatever reasons, we are not valued enough to remain connected.

Each year as I review our list of family members and friends with whom Bonnie and I wish to stay connected, we ultimately must remove some names due to death. We also have taken people off of our mailing list because they have moved and left no forwarding address. Did they do so on purpose? Did they want out? Probably not.

We always seem to add more people to this list each year. In retirement we are resorting to corresponding via email with as many people possible in order to maintain our sanity in light of annual postage increases. Please feel free to do so with us; hearing from you is what matters, even if it is by email.

To hear from someone else, whether family member or friend, is to feel included. It means that we matter, at least in some small way, and that what we offer is important enough for you to take the time to contact us. We always enjoy hearing from you. We care about you and the ups and downs of your lives, even as we suspect that you care about us in the same way.

A genuine friend (is there any other kind?) will never consider “unfriending” those who really matter and who are loved for who they are and not what they are. A friend will celebrate with you and laugh with joy when you are on top of things. A friend will also always be available to listen and to care when life’s experiences are not what were expected, and which carry with them the potential to crush and rob you of joy. To all who are reading this, thanks for choosing to be connected with us. We are grateful. Happy Thanksgiving!

I'm back after a two-month hiatus, and vow to maintain this blog a bit better in the future. I am accustomed to writing for my own benefit these days, and was surprised - pleasantly surprised, at that - to see that someone other than family had not only read my blogs, but appreciated what I was sharing. So . . .

I recently made a commitment to join a Vietnam vets support group that meets on Monday mornings for six months. There are five of us, plus two counselors. We spend an hour and a half each week unpacking excess baggage that has accumulated over these past 40-plus years since returning to the world (as we commonly referred to our country back then).

Being in a third world country for 13-months was a hard slap in the face of my reality, in that I saw and experienced horrific events that are forever etched in my mind's eye. Learning not to see, so to speak, is one of the tasks on which I am working. Let me put that another way: I am, in fact, learning to see, but to do so in a way that enables me not to have that scene disrupt my life and the lives of those closest to me. I am learning that there is much anger within, and how to direct that anger in a healthy way.

I coined the following phrase recently after listening to others, and then to myself, describing some of what I felt: "emotional shrapnel." I was blessed to return without being physically wounded. There were some close calls, and I can still hear in my head jagged pieces of steel flying close to my head on several occasions. One came so close that it actually hurt, and I was startled to learn a little while later that people 150 meters (we used this measurement, rather than yards) behind where I was standing.

Emotional shrapnel, on the other hand, did land, and on more than one occasion. I spent hours typing out my experiences several years ago. It was suggested that by doing so I might come to a place where I could better face my fears and demons. It did help, but they are still inside of me, and will be as long as I am able to breathe on this earth.

I recall the brother of a church member some years ago who told me of the shrapnel that he received during World War II. Doctors told me that these tiny fragments would, from time to time, come to the surface of his body. At that time, he was to go to the VA Hospital and have them cut out. More than 40 years later, he was still going, on a somewhat regular basis, to have these removed.

The purpose of our support group is to help us deal more effectively with the junk that eats away on the inside. Since beginning in early July, I can attest in the affirmative that we are forming a bond that I feel will enable us to become surgeons on one another as we give support and encouragement. It is of great interest to me that each of the others has a faith system that is vital and in place. We call upon Christ as the Great Physician to perform surgery as often as is needed.

(After writing this, I Googled the term "emotional shrapnel" and discovered that I did not, in fact, coin the term. Oh, well . . . the term has great meaning to me, and I am grateful to whoever did.

I would encourage you, the reader, to look within and see if there is any of this stuff tearing you apart. If so, let it come to the surface and then ask for help in removing it. Some of the metal shrapnel, I am told, never comes to the surface. These pieces will always remain as a reminder that life can be difficult and severely painful.

Today I completed my fifth day as a Cub Scout den leader at Camp Cabarrus (16 miles from home). I was responsible for ten boys, all rising 3rd graders, including my grandson, Nate. We got there at 8:15-8:30 AM, and left around 4 PM. Rain hit us two days, but camp went on. It wore me out, but it was a great experience. Now I know why the Scout leader's eyes got real big when I signed up for an entire week.

We fished, did archery, BB gun target range, crafts, lunch, snacks, den time, achievement time, sweating 101, getting rained on 102, melting in the hot sun 303 (advanced course), and restraining myself from committing acts that would have landed me in jail for a long, long time! Only kidding, but boys that age can try one's patience. Did I mention that there were 260 boys, and that I was responsible (with help from other volunteers . . . 1 or 2, usually) for ten boys? They had a ball, and I even received letters from three of the boys thanking me for the experience. I wouldn't take anything for that. Being with my grandson was a treat, too, although he did not appear to like me very much when I woke him up early each morning.

When next June rolls around, I will more than likely sign up again. Perhaps I will still be the oldest volunteer.

Re-retired

Well, I have done it again. At the stroke of midnight, I re-retired from active ministry in a church setting. These past two months I have preached and lead worship at the church where we are now attending and where Bonnie has her membership: Harrisburg UMC (In case you wonder, I do not join a church, as my membership is in the Western NC Annual Conference).

These past nine weeks reminded me why I retired the first time around; while most meaningful and often joyful, ministry is also demanding and flat-out tiring, at times, especially when leading three services in one day, going to the hospital for visitation, and conducting funerals (I only had three during this period).

I will miss preaching, but it will be nice, for a change, to listen to and be fed by others. I think I will go to bed now.

Route 66

Chuck Berry took Nat King Cole's song "Route Sixty-Six" and gave us something to dance to in 1961, my senior year in high school. The song ended with these words: "Get your kicks on Route Sixty-Six."

Well, I turned 66 today and I am still getting my kicks through clean living and staying young in my mind. My body is trying to sing another song, but I keep nudging it and reminding myself how important it is to stay healthy in all ways: physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

Bonnie treated me like a king, Brett took me to lunch, Becca called from France, Heather called from work, Skip emailed me, and grandson Nate sang "Happy birthday" to me on the phone. Emails came from friends, and all in all, it was a wonderful day.

Bonnie and I worked in the yard preparing a new 4'x8' raised garden bed, I mowed the grass, and we took a walk around the community. Life is good.

Doing away with the old . . .

After eight years or so, my computer hard drive and mother board (I think) started causing major problems. I back up somewhat regularly, so I was up-to-date before the final crash (It is near, but hasn't happened yet. I keep getting blue screens with lots of codes, errors, etc., posted in white).

We had purchased two Dell desktops before, so this was what I decided upon once more. It has 6 gigs of memory and a 20" flat screen that is amazingly clear. Man, is it ever fast! Still, I miss the old one, as it was familiar to the touch. I am learning about this new one as I go, and especially getting used to (1) the new keyboard . . . keys seem to be closer together than before), and (2) Vista (I had XP Pro). In time it will all come together. If it doesn't, I will be calling on one of you.

Life is like this, in that we are always upgrading, so to speak, learning new ways to cope and deal with frustrations and disappointments, as well as honing our relationships with those we love as well as with total strangers. It is always challenging, but at the same time, a joy.

I have a web camera built ito the screen at the top. I need to learn how to use it, as I feel this will be fun to fool around with. I am told that one can even have a face-to-face conversation with another person in any part of the world. Stay tuned . . .

I'm back

After taking a few days off, I am writing once more, thanks to my pastor, Dan, who has started a blog while on a four-month sabbatical study leave. I had initially planned to share reflections at least several times a week, but I felt myself being sucked into a giant black hole. Instead of enjoying this craft, I was beginning to feel as if I had to write. That felt like work, so I backed off for a while. That "while" turned into nine months . . . a kind of gestation period, if you will.


I am serving our church for two of the four months that Dan is away. One of my joys is writing a weekly column for the church newsletter. I did not have to write; I chose to write. What a difference! I am also preparing a sermon each week that requires, of all things, writing. So . . . here we are, back in the saddle, enjoying both the challenge and the creativity that flows when I pecking away at the keys. I often have no idea where I am headed, so this has become a wonderful metaphor for retirement.


I am not going to paint myself into a corner this time, but I am going to continue slinging paint, i.e., words, until something worth sharing is posted. While I have always welcomed comments, only one has been posted, and this is perfectly OK by me. I am not writing for anyone but myself. If you are touched by what I write, fine. If not, fine.