And That is Dying in the Lord

I am in a dark hotel room.  It is cold outside, windy, and grey.  I am a long way from home, here to do a funeral of one of my dearest friends.  It is a great burden, an honor you are given regretfully, for it means the passing on of someone you loved.  I looked out the window and saw the wind was up.  It will be bitter at the graveside.  But bitter to us alone.  He is remade into a wonderful being, whole and forever, perfectly alive.   My dad often used this in funerals.  I will too.  

I am standing on the seashore.  A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean.

She is an object of beauty and strength and I stand and watch her until at length she is only a ribbon of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.  Then someone at my side says:

“There!  She’s gone!”

Gone – where?  Gone from my sight – that is all.  She is just as large in mast and hull as she was when she left my side and just as able to bear her load of living freight – to the place of destination.

Her diminished size is in me, not in her, and just at the moment when someone at my side says:  “There!  She’s gone!”  Other voices are ready to take up the glad shout “Here, she comes!”

And that is dying in the Lord.  Author unknown

I am following the casket and my son Aaron
is back right.

Merry Christmas

Two days before Christmas I found myself walking around a packed superstore.  Last-minute shopping.  I was grumbling, muttering, and fussing over being in this mass of people, in Walmart of all places, a day before Christmas Eve.  It suddenly dawned on me, how Christ often uses dawns, that 60% of the earth’s population, if finding themselves in a Walmart, would walk around in an ecstasy of unbelief, a dream of unfathomable abundance of wealth.  I apologized to Him who always welcomes that with a kind, “you’re forgiven!” and began to quietly pray for all those who would never have a Walmart in their lives.  Our wealth is beyond belief.  Merry Cristes Maesse.         

Breathe

I wake.  It is cold.  I turn the coffee on.  There are but two tiny embers in the fireplace, the warming fire from yesterday almost gone.  I stack three little slivers of poplar on the two still hopefuls and sit down with my coffee and The Ancient Text, Isaiah 59-63.  My lover awakes and lays still under the covers. A small light brightens our home, the slivers have become fire.  We talk of the miracle.  We can now be safe, warm, see, and cook for the day.  How can in a void, such miraculous Brilliance bring forth the idea of trees, wood, fire and then be so Kind as to cover the earth with them.  A fire is as hope-filled as Christmas can bring, our Holy Light has come into our world.  I think this old hymn, “Breathe on me, breathe on me.  Holy Spirit breathe on me.”  I feed the fire and we lay in silence, enjoying our Christmas fire Lord.  

The tiny light that came into our world.

       

A Shutters Glimpse Into the Betty of My Everyday

Have you ever known someone who had something good about them you couldn’t quite know, like a stranger’s child who smiles at you, like a twinkling feeling you can’t think of, so swift you beam, and then it’s gone?  Something you knew but couldn’t quite grasp, like a hint of serenity, then gone.  This is the Betty I know, it is herself as her truest self, a shutters glimpse into who she is.  She is a child.  She is not childlike or childish.  She is an innocence, a naivety, a simpleness of goodness. She doesn’t think to worry, to draw a conclusion, to dwell on, she just lives a simple kindness, like a child who shares or wants to hold your hand when she’s scared, or joys in the kindness of the sun’s warmth on her face.  She is unexplainable.  The moment I saw this picture I knew, for the first time, a picture had chanced on the soul of my lover, the clarinet sound of Auld Lang Syne, times long past of my every day.  

This use to be my favorite picture of her.
It sat on my desk for 27 years.

        

 

Infinity Ineffable Love

Forty-one years ago, I gave my heart away, I gave it to her the first time I saw her, it was giveaway at first sight.  We didn’t even know each other except she was my boss’s boss.  One of the greatest miracles of my life is I have never wanted any of my heart back.  We eventually met, married, and began the sacred adventure, the Wonder Mountain.    It is hard to explain one’s heart feelings.  There is a word for it, ineffable, but even that is like attaching infinity to infinity.  It has been 41 years since I first saw her and fell instantly in love, and I’ve never gotten over it…infinity ineffable love.  

We are on Ocracoke Island where we honeymooned 40 years ago.

 

The Sacred Do'er

I was born the third child of a pastor, a preacher’s son.  I grew up, married my lover, and had four children.  Twenty-seven years ago, we had just moved to Jackson to take a new professorship as head of Union’s new 3-D program when we got a knock on our front door.  I answered the door and two men stood on our front porch.  I knew they were “visiting” as I had done so many times growing up with my dad.  One, a tall, big man, with salt and pepper hair, quick to smile and speak, asked if they could come in.  I really didn’t have the time, and we were a big family, but I knew the sacred ritual and pushed open the door and let them in.  They sat on our couch, questioned us to know us, found common ground in our Savior, he a pastor, me a pastor’s son, and he invited us to church.  The sacred was done, the King served, and they rose and left.  We eventually joined his church, an average size that grew before we left to be big, me often referring to it as “Fort God.”  I served as a deacon, received my preaching ordination, and he signed my license.  We often saw each other, and he always stopped and spoke, many times putting his arm around my shoulder.  He was a big man.  He died yesterday.  His body is brand new and glorified…he is a bit bigger man now.  I never forgot him coming to our door.   

Dr. Jett.  The other man who came 
was Noble Grace, aptly named.

Nineteen and ONE

As I have tramped around this earth, I have gathered to myself a lover, love greater than my life.  And she and me have made four more, gathered four souls to us, greater than our life.  And those have gathered many a stray.  Until this day we have gathered to us thirteen more and now they are greater than our very lives.  So, our number is nineteen and our hands cling but our arms are opened wide for more.  We are a family who desires to spread out our tent, extend our pegs, put another stone in the soup, and another log on the hearth. Chill winds are blowing, our seas can be rough, but stronger still are our arms which man the sails.  Let no hand be laid against our helm or heart against our course for our number is nineteen and One and He the One is Him Who sets and assures our course.   

  

On The Love of How Often Beauty Surprises

Thoughts on this Bible verse I noticed for the first time this morning; “Like clear heat in sunshine.”

One of the greatest and ongoing surprises of Christianity, of faith in God, is how full of marvelous and beautiful surprises it is.  Help me to marvel always.  To see many of the wonderful spectacles of all sorts and to recognize Your overwhelming kindness in sharing them with us.  A heartfelt applause.  Thank you, Father. 

  

 

Thanksgiving Feast

Had 18 wild turkeys in our front yard this morning.  I had put out rye seed yesterday in front of the rain and they showed up for the feast.  You never know when you’re going to have Thanksgiving.

        

Can You Describe Love

This morning I read a love poem written by someone from the Middle East, Song of Solomon.  What I enjoy is the wonderful images of so many words. Wine, flowers, animals, fruit, fragrances, trees, and plants all being used to describe love.  This always seems right to me because love, real love, is very difficult to describe, to find words that give a sense of it.  It also gives me insights into the daily life of the people of the Middle East, their understanding is so linked to the earth and what it supplies, its gifts, and how much it gives meaning to their lives.  So much of my life is defined by technology, media, television, man-made things.  This is one of the great gifts of Fair Haven, its presence gives so much meaning to my life, the river, the mountains, the trees, the birds, animals, the wind, waves, colors, the grasses, and bushes of every unknown variety, all these create and mold my every day.  And all of this is Him at work.  This is the meaning of the Song of Solomon for me.  Love, the greatest gift of all, is described by using growing, living, fragrant, things, all coming from or living on the earth.  Living one’s life in a garden, even a fallen garden, brings so much blooming life to these years most think of as the ending years. It is a great reminder of His loving power to resurrect my daily life.

  

For All The Messy People Out There

So it’s that time of year again, traditionally the second happiest time of year.  However, many people struggle during this season, finding it more struggle than joyous.  I too sometimes am overwhelmed by the money changing and profiteering.  Our world is messy, humans are messy, I am messy.  I constantly need a soft moment and natural beauty has always served me well.  If you are messy like me, I want to give you an early gift.  Someone at NASA does a daily post of a spectacular image from the Hubble Space Telescope which coincides with Advent.  My lover and I have made it a part of our staying merry traditions since it began.  Here is the site and the first image to get you started.  I do wish my lover, myself, and all you other messy people, a messy Merry Christmas.  

https://www.theatlantic.com/photo/2023/12/2023-space-telescope-advent-calendar/676192/

 

 

Old Thoughts From And Old Soul

One of the greatest surprises of getting old is it’s not just me getting old but every part of me.  My toes, my hearing, my nails, my memory, my skin, and thousands of other parts of me.  Most of these I never considered until age made them painfully or weirdly noticeable.  However, the greatest surprise of my parts aging is my spirit or heart or the part of me that connects what I have learned to how I understand and thereby think and act.  Another reward of retirement is having ample time to meditatively think these new old thoughts.  

Old thoughts;

1. It’s not that big of a deal.  Most of life is not to be worried over but accepted and enjoyed.

2. Life is amazingly brief.  Never forget this.  Live!!!

3. There are a limited number of forgiveness kisses and smiles.  Be generous.

4. Children’s actions are to be smiled at, teenagers ignored, young adults accepted, and middle-aged tolerated; you’ve lived it all more or less in the same way.

5. Enjoy the secret wonderful thoughts, meditations, and actions of an old soul.  It was your hardest job in life, living so you got here.

6. The hereafter is after here.  Settle out of court.