It, They, He Never Fails

It never fails.  I peek at the news, both sides, and they’re still at it.  They are mean people saying and doing mean things.  These people are frightening.  I believe many of them would do mean things to all of us if they could get away with it to make us believe and do everything they believe and do.  I may not be the brightest kid on the block but I know a mean person when I hear one.  I am not scared of any of them individually but collectively with power, they are very dangerous.  

It never fails.  I spend a considerable amount of time reading and meditating on The Bible.  I read commentaries on the passages.  I read about Jesus and His work.  He is very kind.  He is always looking out for the little person, the hurting, the sick, the one the world is up against.  He never talks mean because He isn’t.  He also calls me to His work, every day, to everyone I meet.  What is his work?  Believe in Him and help others too by loving them with the kindness He loves me with.  I am not that religious but I know a kind person when I hear one.  I am not afraid of Him because He tells me all the time to not be afraid and collectively with His power, we are brave and committed enough to be His kindness.            

Benson Sculpture's work, The Light From Within
installed in Kokomo IN

 

You Should Think "Thank You" If You're Thankful

I was reminiscing yesterday to my wife about my exploits when I was younger.  Actually, I was reminiscing about my parent's response to my exploits, always gentle, forgiving, and caring.  I was not your typical wayward preacher’s kid, I was over the edge but there was a certain wonder of it all, my parents.  In all the fall after going over the edge I never felt shamed by them nor did I feel anything other than a complete security of my place in their family.  I often marvel at how these two only children, from such disparate backgrounds, could have become such remarkable parents.  Only God can account for it.  One of the results of this is, not only have I always felt my parents to be the greatest hero’s, I have also longed to know God in the way they do/did.  When someone is so wayward and living in rejection of all that another stands for and that other can allow that person to feel such ongoing and persistent gentle care and forgiveness, you never get over it.  That was my introduction to Jesus in whom is the perfection of what my parents modeled and to Whom they always laid my glory for them at His Worthy Feet.  

My mom and dad, my sister Tressella and brother PR, and me 
in my mom's arms, the way I always feel.

   

The Un-Sterning of Good Morning

Who is the first person you say “Good Morning” to?  It is important.  The first person I kiss every day is my lover as I am rolling out of bed with a quiet, “love ya, baby”.  I tell God “Good morning” first thing I say to him.  Want him to know I know who is doing it and if you can pull off morning someone ought to tell you “good!”.  The reason I write this is because saying “Good morning” always makes me smile and I like that.  My wife’s resting facial expression is a smile, mine more a neutral stern.  Now I am not naturally stern but Zoom has shown me that one's natural, resting expression is important and stern is the only word I have come up with to describe how I naturally look.  This is a very long go along to just say, smiling is important to everyone who is looking at you and if saying Good Morning makes you smile you should say it a lot—and, if morning is important, which it is because if you didn’t get morning you don’t get anything afterward, which is plain to see important, then we all should tell The One who makes them all, “Good Morning!”

Resting and un-sterning by saying "Good Morning!"

   

Momma Was A Rolling Stone

I am a rolling stone.  I married a rolling stone.  We have such meaningful times always going to look around the bend.  There is so much beauty to see.  We saw several waterfalls yesterday, lost on a back road where we were in three states in less than 30 minutes.  In one deep hollow hosting a winding stream we came upon an old homestead, Russell the old sign said.  In the 1800’s he had driven cattle to Sacramento California, sold them, sewed the gold coins in his vest so he wouldn’t get robbed, and came back to North Carolina to settle this hardscrabble farm deep in the Appalachians.  Only remnants remained, an old spring house, a few outbuildings, and three corners of what was once a fine home were all that was left.  Miles from nowhere and no one; here we were, two rolling stones rolling along the path of another one.  God is good.  All the time.  God is good.   

old spring house with Hounder

The Man Builder Knitter

I know two men who are trying to rebuild their lives after devastation visited their bodies.  Both men are qualified for the enormity of their task because both men have secured themselves to the Man Builder.  All of us become who we are with very little consciousness of the act.  We are born and as we grow we become us.  But there are a few that for one reason or another, often tragedy, have to redo it conscious of the whole event.  Becoming a man is not easy.  It is the most difficult task imaginable because there is no manual.  Each part of you tragedy took away, you must now learn to do all over again.  If you lost the use of your right foot you will have to learn to do all the things your right foot used to do in some other way.  It is perhaps the greatest accomplishment of humans to consciously rebuild themselves from the parts tragedy didn’t take.  This is where the Man Builder part comes in.  Every step of the process is salved by the gratitude that blooms in you as you are remaking this most wonderful gift, the gift of being.  And that gift is given freely by the one who knew us all before time began.  Being you is because someone built you,  “knitted” in fact.  And some of us, the meaningful few, get to do it all over again, only this time we help The Man Builder Knitter.  

     

GO!

I was reminded again this morning what a great gift starting is.  Remember when we were children, the “Get Ready!  Get Set!  GO!”  and we were off.  Oh, the possibilities; winning the race, climbing the hill, breaking the red rover chain, getting the girl.  That is what today is, a new beginning, a new start, a new GO!  I read somewhere lately, “Don’t look back.  You’re not going in that direction.”  Good advice for old artists, and first-year teachers.  Half the battle is won by just showing up.  It’s raining today, natural obstacle course.  What will we do today?  Get Ready! Get set!.....GO! 

My sculpture, "Oh, The Possibilities or Great Baby Names"

It Is Like That--Off The Grid

Fair Haven is off the grid, no internet, no cable, and barely a phone signal.  It is strange how quickly we become disconnected, just pull up, get out and you are off the hotline.  How do we fill our days?  First, we are conscious of being together, there is another human present and we are naturally drawn to developing that relationship, she is my only human contact, the way I get all my news, information, commentary, and opinion.    Secondly, we work together.  Making a home in what was forested shoreline comes with a lot of work.  Yesterday was spent working on a trail we are making across and up our mountain.  Learning to work together is exactly like learning to dance, each one learns the moves, in dance, it’s called grace and in work, it’s called efficiency.   Third, we read, study, meditate and learn.  This is often done in silence but the sincereness is physical.  It begins with two souls nourishing and continues off and on throughout the day with enjoyment, learned conversations, and what I can best describe as meaningful being.  And then there is God.  This is much harder to explain but the most obvious result of being off-grid.  We know the days slow passing.  It begins with dark morning and routine; we see the sun come up and move veristically overhead but also we see it move horizontally across the mountains as the earth tilts toward the coming season.  We consciously observe the sky, the forest, the lake, and all the life that passes through them.  We celebrate the day, the eagles, the pelicans, the breeze, the warmth of the sun, the animal tracks, and all the sounds that make up the natural world.  Every day the world is new, vibrant, alive, and teeming with meaning.  It is almost never loud even though there have been tremendous storms, but it is really, deeply, spiritually, meaningful.  Each day is filled with that.  It is like the world was made so we could be alive.  It is very slow because each moment is alive and available for us to live.  It is being with God.  It is like that. 

  

Lavish, Elaborate, Extravagance

I know I have said this before but it is worth repeating; dawn is so hope-filled.  It is one of the most ingenious and kind ideas.  And on top of that keeping our star lit is an elaborate grace.  In a world where we are raised to turn the light out behind us, keeping the sun on is extravagant.  I love extravagance, even saying the word is fun, especially when it is done for me.  This is one reason I cling to God; He is always lavish in his kindness toward me.  Dawn, lavish, elaborate, extravagance—sometimes words need repeating.   

A Call To Arms

Boy, I am in a fighting mood, pushed almost to the limit this morning by The Ancient Living Text and The Puritan Prayer book.  It is exactly the same feeling I get listening to the news—except for one major difference, the first calls me to the war of love and reconciliation and the others mostly call me to the war of hate and division.  The difference is in the fight.  This will clear it up; The Ancient One calls us to “fight” but finishes the phrase this way, “fight the good fight.”  What is this good fight?  It is the fight to love.  Put in another way, if you are being mean by breaking into the Capitol or breaking shop windows or killing the unborn, or refusing the refugee, you are not fighting the good fight.  You are on the other side; just fighting!  

Oh boy am I called to arms!!!  Politicians of all stripe are lined up against us, some employ mobs, some the National Guard, most the media.  But we are called to the arms of love, to wrap them around the poor, needy, sick, lame, and hurting and NOT BACK DOWN—put another way, “let us not lose heart in doing good, for in due time we will reap if we do not grow weary.  So then, while we have the opportunity let us do good to all people,”.      

Two last things so that you will know how difficult this is for me and you.  You have to be willing to die for your beliefs not kill for them.  No great warrior ever went into battle willing to kill, love overcomes that, but nothing can overcome the willingness to die for what one believes.  The fight didn’t begin when President Trump was elected or President Biden, both minor players, give me Mother Teresa any day.  The fight begins, as it did for me, every morning when you wake up, sit down with God, and get your orders for the day.    

Secondly, don’t back down.  Oppose meanness at every step, and walk in the way of love with every one of those strides.  Call your politicians every week and try to see them when you can.  Tell them you expect them to do the same, to stop this fight of hate and join the good fight of doing good.  NEVER, NEVER, NEVER, BACK DOWN!!!  

 

You Can Too

The quiet is broken only by the pinging of the steel stove as it expands from the small morning fire I am nursing awake for the day.   It is still dark night at 7:05 but the dawn is coming with its promises.  My lover and our dog both sleep deeply in our mattress, barely visible beneath the winter cover.  It snowed all day yesterday without accumulation, just blowing snow worn to nothing by the wind.  We spent the day in the hollows and lost ridges of the Appalachians, mostly on single-lane roads completely lost but knowing they would eventually spill us out on familiar ground.  As slow a day as we could make.  We picnicked in the truck beside a small mountain church, good bread, fruit, and chocolate, and walked awhile to stretch our old bones.  Our back seat was filled with children and grandchildren, making young with songs and laughter, and napping and just the joy that comes with barely being.  I just glanced up to see where dawn was, there may be an outline of it on the mountain east, up the river, but still, I must strain to have the hope of it.  Morning comes early to me and often stretches on in solitude to the point of melancholy.  But dawn is coming, the next glance up and the outline is sure—You have kept our star lit.  “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.”  I did. 

     

The Library Of Snow Crystals Prayer

It is snowing.  What mind would ever conceive of snow?  If in a vacuum you placed us all, would collectively we imagine snow?  Science tells us each flake is different, a delicate sculpture, each unique.  Who can understand such generosity, such creativity?  “Have you entered the storehouses of the snow, And have you seen the storehouses of hail,”  GOD.  How many angels work on snow crystal drawings before passing them on to snow angels to create and then you store them for use, this morning to prompt a snow prayer.  “God I am so grateful for You, Your splendor so colors my imagination and gives me joy.  The simple act of watching it snow, Your snow, used this day to bring You praise and me a mind to marvel.  A marvel is such a gift.  To marvel is most of Christianity.  The Archives of the Crystals for Snow.  What a library that must be.  Thank You!”

Us is US

I have lived a long time with myself.  I have learned to trust myself in many things and not in others.  I am simple, keep close to the ground, mostly quiet, observant, minding my own business, and keep my own counsel.  I refuse to watch the news, only hear what my preferred good time oldy radio station reports, (very minimal and generally just the facts).  A couple of things I know, I don’t like what’s going on in America, not one bit and, half of us better quit trying to push the other half of us around accusing us of all sorts of bad things.  Remember us is the US.  

A whole bunch of us--but not all.

It Is Our Government That Needs Watching, Not The Ducks

One was certainly going to die.  A bald eagle had managed to separate four small ducklings from the flock that was grouped tightly together several yards away and was repeatedly diving to snatch one out of the water. I understood the whole event immediately, a gift of being human, and I also knew I could stop it.  I ran toward the river yelling at the eagle to “GIT” clapping my hands a waving.  I had everyone’s attention,  the flock began to move further away, the ducklings stopped paddling and looked toward me and the eagle halted its diving to fly just above them and see if there was a threat.  It supposed me to be and flew up and was lost in the riverside forest.  The ducklings immediately rushed half walking on water, half flying to rejoin their flock and the flock disappeared around the bend of the river.  I walked back toward the house knowing I had not won, the battle yes, but not the war.  The eagle was certainly still watching, the flock was still in the river, and the ducklings were still vulnerable.  I knew in all probability the eagle would eventually have one.   But not on my watch!  

It occurs to me this morning this is a basic tenant of America, watchman, the problem is now half of us think the other half needs watching.  Oh, what a paranoid group of people we have become, sitting in our home, curtains cracked, binoculars out, watching our neighbor hoping we can catch them messing up so we can tattle.  A watchman is there to save the neighbor from an enemy, not save the watchman from his neighbor.  The ducklings were not the enemy needing watched, the eagle was.  

The flock under my watchcare.

   

What A MOUTH FULL, January 10,2021

It happened again. We got the word last night. He died. Death always comes as a setback. It touches deep inside where nothing human ever goes. It is the area of The Divine. Only God goes there. Only God is welcome. Only God can help. The finality of every human effort is the most difficult acknowledgment, it is so quick, so resolved, in a twinkling—over. AND THEN GOD. And to be left with ONLY GOD is enough. It is His Supreme meaning. HE is enough. “Death has”, once again, “been swallowed up in Victory. He will swallow up death forever.” Amen.

What To Do When Staggered By Living

The monumentality of the events of living often leave us staggered by our inability to acknowledge that we have actually lived them.  This is why great art, architecture, songs, movies, literature, and poetry exist.  However, most of us are not artists, poets, or builders.  Might I suggest you become an altar builder.  It is quite simple, go out into the woods, pick up stones and stack them in a pile.  Now stand and look at it.  Allow yourself time to acknowledge the event in your life and then…

Well, I think any event worth marking the earth over requires one further step.  Is God?  If asked honestly and sincerely trust His answer.  Then you will want to build another altar.          

A few years ago our oldest daughter was diagnosed with cancer
and was not given great odds of surviving.  My wife moved to Knoxville
to be with her.  One day I was overwhelmed with worry and loneliness
and drove to the border of Tennessee and built this altar.  Yesterday
Betty and I went back, found it, repaired it, and once again
thanked God Is for our daughter is alive and cancer-free!!!

 

The First Visual For Your Soul Attending

Your daily first visual of the world is so critical to how you will understand the rest of your day.  It is a gift to yourself if the first prolonged gaze of your day is a natural one, a forest, a meadow, a mountain range, and that view filled with living creatures.  I awake many mornings to a river, hills, and mountains and the vastness of the southern sky and first light reveals a world filled with life going about their business of living.  Birds for all seasons, deer, fox, fish breaking the early morning glass of the river, life abounds in all shapes, colors, sizes, and variety.  And in all of this stirs the Ever Presence, His goodness manifest in a world vividly alive living in full dependence upon His kindness.  A peace that passes all understanding as I watch life unhindered by the chaos of humanity.   

Behind this scene are humans, technology, devices, and media grinding up the day of trouble searching the globe to present to us another view.  I am no fool, it is to these humans we have been called to be with, to help, and to serve.  But I have found I am so much more equipped to understand the rest of my day if I will first allow the ministry of creation to abide in me the truth of The Absolute Care of all that is.  Peace, like a river, in my case, The Great Tennessee, attendeth my soul.  

Radical, Rebellious, Revolutionary

Obviously, the world is burning with rebellious radicals, the left, the right, fighting, maiming, even killing.  I have a great urge to join the ranks, to rebel and riot, and throw off the tyrannical oppression of my enemies.  But I will not even though I am deeply moved to do so.  The reasons have nothing to do with me.  I lived for years in rebellion at the bottom of a bong, a bottle, and a brothel and to even write this truth is deeply damaging to my spirit.  But then I met the most fascinating Radical, Rebellious, Revolutionary of all time, Jesus.  His call was so profound in its simplicity; believe in Him. And the result was equally profound in its sincerity, He would help me to be kind, helpful, and generous and in that way, my life would make it easier for others to find him as well.  A great prophet of His put it this way;

‘Prepare the way for the LORD’s coming!

Clear the road for him!

The valleys will be filled,

and the mountains and hills made level.

The curves will be straightened,

and the rough places made smooth.

And then all people will see

the salvation sent from God.’

When you look out over your American landscape today ask yourself who is helping to make the way to God easier for others—they will be marked by their kindness, helpfulness, and generosity—and then join that group of radicals.  

What Then Should We Do?

“What then should we do?”*

Politicians, news, social media, and most of public opinion has placed the current political races into the most important issue of our times.  A great falsehood.  Like most Americans, I am deeply, truly deeply troubled by America but I cannot allow the world to define reality.  I need a greater authority.  One not plagued by injustice, unkindness, untruthfulness, and often evilness.  Why?  Because the second most important issue of our time and all times is; “What then should we do?”  It is an individual question that is critical that every human ask themselves every day and even several times each day.  It profoundly focuses me on this one problem, “How will Lee Benson live today or even at this moment?” because Lee Benson will one day give an account for how he lived to The Great Authority I mentioned above.  I will not have to give an account for the Democratic or Republican Parties, Mr. Biden or Mr. Trump, Mark Zuckerberg, CNN, BLM, FoxNews, Planned Parenthood, KKK, or anyone or anything else.  And what is the bar The Great Authority is measuring me against?  Well, the rules are firmly established, only two, loving Him with all my heart, mind, soul, and strength and loving my neighbor as myself.  And there is the kicker!!!  I can’t do that.  That is what’s wrong with me and every other human that has ever lived. But The Authority took care of that as well by sacrificing His Son for me individually so that through Him, He would help me to love as He requires.  Which brings me to the most important question of all times that always precedes the second one above and will be asked at the accounting; “What did you do with Jesus The Lord?”

*Luke 3:7-18

 

The Stranger I Know As Lee Benson

I never knew being a Christian was going to be what it is.  I was raised in a very Godly home with all the right things to give me notice but I never noticed.  I actually felt being a Christian meant following a bunch of rules most of which would deprive me of the real joy and meaning of life.  Nothing is more shocking to the unbeliever become believer than the life that develops in you.  It was not overnight nor was it quick but it is a prolonged becoming and the longer the journey the more intensely meaningful.  It is as if everything is made new, literally from a blade of grass to the taste of your lover.  It is the ongoing realization of reality that make tears and watermelon objects that implore you toward grateful, happy-filled, worship.  It is like hiking and mountain climbing where everything is an adventure and all things are there to discover.  But the greatest gift, the most profound discovery is love.  The abundance of love that rises up out of what you know you as, an old gnarled scoundrel, as if you have been reborn as a saint.  That always shocks me.  I know who lee is but I have no accounting for who this new man is that I am continually becoming.  That man is the greatest mystery of all—and the grace that allows me to daily discover him is something only God as God, the One and Only God, can create me to be.  It is the grace of all graces to accept by faith that Christ Jesus rebirths us into a new person and that person is daily discoverable as some marvelous stranger that I get to meet.  

Would You Die For An American?

My daughter Sarah read the book The Longest Day.  She was so moved that she urged our whole family to read it.  She continued until I finally have.  It is the story of hundreds of thousands of American, British, Canadian, and French soldiers during the 24 hours of D-Day, the WWII Allied landing at Normandy.  Every American should have to read it.  It is the story of Americans that may not ever again exist.  This gripping, sorrow filled and heroic account is so poignant in today’s climate of disdain for most of America and Americans.  The willing and often sacrificial dying for one’s country was not an idea but an actual, personal event in thousands of lives.  These soldiers lived in an America that was just as flawed as it is today but the fact still remains, they sacrificed their lives.  As I read their account I realized they were not dying for an ideal America, America was just as flawed then as it is now, they died for their fellow Americans.  Those men they were with whose duty it was to ensure that the other guy made it and in the process, their duty was successfully accomplished, hate was overthrown by love.  It was not the Americans away off in America they died for, it was an American right next to them; and by saving him, they saved us all.  When will we stop this self-loathing of other Americans and see the American right next to us worthy of loving—

“Greater love hath no one than this, that a person will lay down his life for his friends.” Jesus

Which Americans do you think he was talking too or maybe a better question is, which Americans obeyed Him?

Photo from the book.

 

A New Year or Our Shag Carpet and Hillbillery AstroTurf

A new year.  That is something if it happens.  I struggle to remain conscious of time.   Even in nanoseconds, I do not create, control or are guaranteed it.  Time is the most precious gift.  Without it, we are not.  So a new year is something profound enough to move us to awestruck wonder which should cause us to do what humans do when we realize the splendid idea of being; worship.  Worship doesn’t mean going to church even though it should be a good place to do it.  Worship means an altogether giving over of one’s self to the adoration and gratefulness of someone who is worthy.  In our best day, all human efforts combined, cannot create a single second so a new year is not only a happy occasion but more like a worshipful one.  I was just texting a farmer who has COVID and he said he was walking outside.  He told me yesterday he was staying inside and walking on the carpet to exercise.  I texted back that I thought he was going to stay inside.  He responded that the carpet was boring and a walk in the green fields with his cows made him feel better.  I responded that God was having a red-letter day when he thought up grass and then created it.  If it had been left up to humans we would have made lime green shag carpet or that fake plastic grass which is our hillbillery copy of AstroTurf.  Seconds and grass should cause us to worship and a New Year…well you get the picture.  

Happy new year from our family to yours.  Baby Rosemary was just a few 
days from being born in this family picture.