The Black Prince of Crecy

During this past summer, my family and I spent a few days in Savannah, Georgia. We love Savannah! With the tall oaks dripping with Spanish moss, square after square of restored mansions and homes, a sense of history and timelessness. While there, one of the many things we did was go to the Telfair Museum of Art. It is a wonderful art museum composed of three diverse sites - the original building, the Telfair Academy of Arts and Sciences, a National Historic Landmark building; the Owens-Thomas House, also a National Historic Landmark; and the Jepson Center for the Arts, a contemporary building which houses 20th- and 21st-century art.

As you know, I am a lover of all things art (with the possible exception of most modern art-yuck) and do my utmost to visit an art museum in whatever city I happen to find myself in, should a window of opportunity open. I feel that I have passed this love onto my girls, who also love art museums, especially Lauren. There is such a wonderful feel to an art museum. It is cool and quiet and gives you lots of time to reflect, ponder and think. It smells of ancient things, of people and times long gone. The feeling of history is palatable. I feel a true sense of peace and well being.

We started in the original building, the Telfair Academy of Arts and Sciences. It had many older pieces, many of them pertaining to old Savannah and local artists. Marvelous! At the back of museum, there is a very large room, both in depth, height and breadth. There is a huge dome sitting atop the room. There is such a sense of space in this room. It's walls are filled with very large canvases from various artists and time periods. It was truly breathtaking in scope. But on one wall, hanging between heaven and earth, was a piece that made me stop in my tracks.

The Black Prince of Crecy.

I was absolutely captivated by it! It was huge- 11 feet high by 17 feet long! I was completely drawn into it. You can see for yourself the little picture at the top of the blog post but it in no way does it the justice it deserves. It was a visceral experience for me. I could feel the wind blowing the withers of the horse, the grass on the ground, the clouds in the air, the standard whipping. The blood seeping into the ground, the arrival of the carrion crows and vacant sheen of the horse's eye. It was as though I had just come upon this scene and stood there dumbstruck, unsure what to make of it.

In the middle stood the Black Price of Crecy. What was he thinking? Was he gloating over his vanquished foe, speaking words of victory and cursing the dead. Or was he silent on the field of victory, paying homage to a worthy king, a valiant foe in defeat. Maybe he, as the Black Prince, was just now feeling the weight of kingship slip onto his shoulders as he gazed down at his father, the White King. Feelings of loss, remorse for things unsaid, new-found authority pressing heavy on his breast. Oh, to be there and ask, "What are you thinking, my Liege?" I must have stood there for 20 minutes and gazed and thought and mused.

Sometimes I wish that I had been born in a different era, a time long past where there was a clearer demarcation between right and wrong, a greater sense of nobility and virtue, the greater cause to which we saddle up and march forth to battle. My lovely Lauren, sensing how much I enjoyed this piece and wanting to preserve the moment for posterity's sake, purchased a mouse pad and 2 foot by 3 foot print as a Fathers Day gift for me. I was very surprised and grateful. Deep love expressed in tangible ways. It hangs on the wall in my office. I see it almost every day. Not only does it remind me of that special day last summer but speaks to me of virtue, responsibility and cause. I carry it's spirit with me, one of victory and hope, at great cost.

It reminds me of other battles I fight, in other, higher realms. Spiritual and unseen, it is more real that real life.

A Black Prince in the army of the King of Kings.
Traveler

Walking in Circles

I had just started my daily devotional. I follow the Daily Office from the Book of Common Prayer and utilize the following website:
http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html.

The Opening Sentence was the following:
In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Isaiah 40:3

I did not even get started before I was stopped in my tracks. Sometimes a phrase or bit of Scripture has that unique ability to say volumes in just a few words. I read and re-read this sentence numerous times, chewing on it like a cow. This is the rabbit trail my thoughts took.

So many times in my life, I have found myself in the back side of the desert, sometimes because of self-exile and sometimes because I was led there. It seem that I have spent much time wandering in the wilderness, just like the people of Israel, wandering with no clear or discernible course. The above Scripture exhorts me to "prepare the way of the Lord."

Prepare the way of the Lord in the wilderness? What do you mean? I can't even seem to find my own way, let alone the "way of the Lord." Yet that is what I am told to do.

It goes on to say, "Make straight in the desert a highway for our God."
Straight! How can I make anything straight when all I seem to be doing is walking (and sometimes running) in circles? Lapping the mountain yet again! The straightest line between two points for me seems to include a few 90 and 180 degree angles and lots of back-tracking to see if I can find the point where I last lost the trail.

Yet scripture clearly gives me a path, so to speak, out of the desert. It happens when I prepare the way for the Lord by making a straight highway for God to get straight to me. I mean, isn't there a reason that I'm in the desert? Could it be that God has led me there to straighten out things in my life, things that make me crooked and bent? My cry is that I become more like Him. But when He takes me on a tour of the backside of the desert, I want off of the tour bus.
It is my job to prepare to meet my maker in the here and now.

Preparation takes lots of hard work.

Have you ever been to the desert? I have. Its hot as you know where, dry with not a drop of water and goes on for what seems like eternity. And most roads seem to go, well, you guessed it, straight. Why? To get across it as fast as you can! Virtually no one I know wants to spend any more time than necessary there. Yet I seem almost always take the longest route possible. Creating a road in the desert is dusty, hard, back-breaking work. Digging in unforgiving rock, the pick ax, heavy in my hand, causing blisters and gives me splinters.

But my heart is hard and it takes a long time to soften it up for use.

Since I have lots of time invested in the desert, I can speak as an experienced guide. I have learned that my time in the desert is not necessarily wasted. I have learned what plants I can get nourishment from, the location of the secret watering holes, greatly appreciating the occasional rain storm which bring refreshing and life-giving moisture. This moisture in turn causes the desert to bloom into valleys of gorgeous color and fragrance. I have become more attuned to the rhythm of the seasons, which have brought a restfulness and patience to my hurried and busy life, my bruised and battered soul. By slowing down, I can hear God more clearly.

Don't be too eager to find the escape route from your place in the desert. In your haste to leave, you may miss the best parts!

Glad I got past that Opening Sentence!
Traveler

Blogging: Thoughts on

Once again, I have found that out how hard being a faithful blogger is. A myriad of topics to choose from, a plethora of starts and stops and finally.....

Aw, maybe tomorrow.

Sometimes I feel that I have so many vital and noteworthy comments and witty observations. These usually hit me as I am driving in my car or just minutes from falling asleep, neither situation lending itself to pounding on my keyboard. And when inspiration and time coalesce to create a riff in the time-space continuum, I just sit and stare at the screen, willing myself to put the first keystroke on a masterpiece of creativity and expenditure of gray matter.

This is what Van Gogh or Renoir or Toulouse-Latrec must have felt like as they stared at blank canvas and tried to decide on which type of brush, what kind of paint, what medium to create in, what object to immortalize on the texture of canvas. I'm sure that what they envisioned did not always materialize when they put the brush down.

That is how I feel sometimes.......lost in the translation from my brain to the blog.

Once in a while, lighting strikes! And in moments, a lucid, coherent stream of intelligent, meaningful, articulated thought becomes immortalized on my blog site, to be read and re-read and forwarded onto others who we think will both enjoy and gain benefit from it.

Oh, why can't I be diligent and faithful to myself and you and post on a regular basis!

The encroachment of time, sickness, tiredness, laziness, children, work, my wife, hunger and football. All conspires against me, preventing me from bursts of productiveness. I allow myself to be swept up in the "Now"ness of the moment. The "Tyranny of the Urgent" saps the energy from the stream of thoughts out of my head on its way to my keyboard.

Are we talking about my blog or my life?

Sometimes, I'm not sure I can tell the difference.

The way I see myself is not always what others see. Sometimes they see the best in me, but many times, the ugly is more prevalent. The image I think I am projecting is many times lost and distorted by my words and actions. What I am trying to say on the canvas of my life is not always what others perceive.

I feel like a canvas, on display for all to see, unable to shape the ideas others have about me. Some of those ideas please me, some make me want to be taken off the display wall and hidden in the basement vault.

Or maybe a better analogy is me as a 1080 dpi Sony Flat Screen TV. I project whatever I want to others so that they will like me, think well of me and want to befriend me. I wish I could control what others see but I have surrendered the remote control. So my channel can't be changed, no matter how hard I try.

I am seen for who I am.

Sometimes a hero, saint and friend, sometimes a villain, sinner and a traitor.

Thank be to God that I have hope! While I will never be all that I want to be, in Christ I will never be less than a son of the Most High, forgiven and ever in a process of change. I do not hold the brushes which paint on the canvas of my life and I know who holds the remote control.

Thank God it's not me!

A Work in Progress!
Traveler

Addendum to "Thoughts on the "The Election"

I have received a number of comments on my last post about the election. Perhaps some clarification is needed.

I in no way want it to be construed that I am not thinking this election through, only responding from anger and disappointment. I am using the lens of my christian worldview.

Yes, I believe that God is still on the throne.
Yes I believe that the the heart of kings are in the Hand of God.
Yes, I believe that this is may be a time of shaking and sifting in our collective national soul.

While I am not shaken as a Christian and my spiritual foundations remain strong and steady, I am angry as a voter, a Republican, a Conservative, a father and a citizen of both Heaven and Earth.

My friend, the Really, Righteous, Rev. Hanner had a recent post on antagoniz.com where the statistic cited was that less that 1/3 of our nation considered themselves "church goers." And this was in 2001! Imagine what it is today. We are witnessing the steady erosion of our cultural and spiritual morals. And the tide isn't turning in our direction. This is evidenced by the outcome of the recent Presidential election. Our country is shifting to the left, dragging the center and Right with it.

And the Right continues to get smaller and less effective.

I know that in the end, it doesn't matter. God's will will be done. But I just don't feel like joining in and celebrating the Democratic victory. However long God tarries, I still must make account for what I do during the time and in the space I occupy. I am still to be salt and light in a dying and darkening world.

Sunday in church, the New Testament reading was the passage about the 10 wise and 10 foolish virgins. I pray that I will do my utmost to keep my lamp full, ever watchful and ready for his return. I will continue to possess the land that I am in and, though I may sometimes complain and holler, I will continue to pray and be a faithful witness and keep to my place in the wall!

Look Busy! Jesus is coming!
Traveler

Thoughts on "The Election"

With the sting of defeat still resonating in the depths of my being, I thought now would be a good time to put thoughts to blog posting. I have posted 4 pictures this time instead of the normal 1. Take a moment to re-read them and let the sentiments sink into your conscienceness.

They sum up what I feel.

I do not look forward to the changes that this new administration and congress will impose upon the nation. I believe that we find ourselves in this position because of what my side, the Republicans, failed to do during the 8 years of the Bush administration. Admittedly, we were somewhat distracted by the war in Iraq, but we failed to do anything about taxes, Social Security, immigration and the border, the drug trade and jobs going overseas. And now it will be many years before we get that chance again.

We lost because our leaders abandoned Conservatism. We didn't, in the words known in Texas, "Dance with the one who brung you." We allowed ourselves, once again, to get sidetracked with the notions of fairness and being liked by the Left and the media. We have forgotten that no matter what we do as Conservatives, we will never be accepted or liked by the Left. They stand opposed to all that we believe in and base our principles on. We pandered to the Left's desire for unity, forgetting that their notions of "Unity" consists of me forgetting and leaving behind all of my Conservatism and becoming a Democratic Leftist. Being popular is more important that being right.

Which brings me to my next point. Having clear policies and a real understanding of government and leading is not a requirement for being POTUS (President of The United States). Because of the ignorance and shallowness of many of the voters in our country, Style won over Substance. Promising that " 95% of Americans will pay no taxes" still seems to be as effective as "a chicken in every pot" did a few decades ago. Our culture, accustomed to handouts of any kind, seemed loathed to bite the hand that feeds it. Rather, it just voted to continue the culture of corruption, big government and higher taxes with the belief that Government, not hard work and lower taxes, is the answer to the problem.

Many on the Left and some on the Right, on the day after the coronation of the Messiah, His Majesty Barak, gave forth the clarion call for all to come together and work for the common good.
I, for one, have no interest in "Unity" for Unity's sake. How can I "come together" and support those whose policies I vehemently opposed during the election? Just because the Democrats won does not mean that I agree with them on anything. I didn't before and I still don't now. If that makes me a sore loser, then so be it. I cannot join with them in the propagation of abortion, gay marriage, higher taxes, greater government intrusion, less privacy, decreased religion freedom and a weaker military.

Which begs the question. Must I be a gracious and compliant loser?

NO! And again I say, NO! I must not lie down and take the beating the Left feels I rightly deserve. I say NO to the spread of Socialism in my country. I say NO to the abandonment of Reagan and Conservatism. 57 million voters said NO at the polls. I was one of them. I will continue to stand for the principles that made this country great and I will trumpet the values, both Biblical and governmental, which make this the greatest nation on God's green earth. I will pray and study and be ready for mid-term elections in '10 and to cast my vote again in 2012 for real "Change."

Will you be ready?

Still smarting from the Chicago-style mob whacking!
Traveler

What was I thinking? - Part 2

I always appreciate the comments that others leave in response to my blog. And sometimes its important to pass them on. These two arrived today and I thought posting them would be helpful and instructive. They come from 2 different parts of our great land, the first from Richard in the swamps of Georgia and the second from Margot in the Pacific Northwest. Thanks for your sage comments.


Excellent Post Bro, Appreciate the charactered candor. I hope your readers will follow your insightful anaysis. A wise man learns from experience-A wiser man learns from someone else's!
Richard


Hi Jeff,
I too got duped into seeing the Dark Knight. I came home so mad and up set it took me most of what was left of the evening to settle down. I based my decision on going on the previous Bat Man movies. What I ended up seeing was 2.5 hours of non stop senseless violence. As if violence ever really makes sense. The violence in this movie was not violence with even a motive but simply for the sake of destruction. This film was unbelievably dark.

So as I searched my heart to see if there was anything of redeeming value as a result of that experience. All I could come up with was that it was a wake up call for how dark our world has become. We as believers need to burn much brighter.

"All that's necessary for the forces of evil to win in the world is for enough good men to do nothing."
- Edmund Burke

It is time to be out shining the light of the gospel on every street corner. We have been too busy shining our lights at each other.

If this film does anything I hope that what the enemy meant for our destruction will turn out for our good. In that those unfortunate believers who had to witness the evil of this movie would wake up to the fact that our enemy is not flesh and blood but powers and principalities intent on destruction.

We need to wake up - no matter what end time scenario you choose to hold to the hour grows late and our lives are only a pittance of years. It is our personal end times. What will we do with our years for the glory of our Lord and King? Will we have oil in our lamps when the Bride Groom comes? Will he find us faithful?

For me, after repenting for not walking out after the first 15 minutes and subjecting myself to the entire movie. After I calmed down and turned to God in prayer with humble repentant heart.
I came to the conclusion that I needed to ask God to turn up the fire in my life. How easy it is to be lulled to sleep or to be carried away by all the distractions and things of this life. We have become desensitized to the evil running rampant in our land. Truly we need to allow the Lord to shake us up.

2 Chronicles 7:14
if my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land.

It is time to wear out our knees!

Kudos Jeff for speaking out on this one.

Posted by Margot to A Wandering Traveler at October 12, 2008 10:00

Grateful for other travelers.
Traveler

What was I thinking?

A couple of week ago, I went to see a movie with a friend. I didn't want to particularly go to see this movie. While it looked interesting, I feared it would be as bad, with little redeeming value. Not bad as in horrible plot, acting and film making but bad as in content. The kind of movie where you leave and say, "What was I thinking?" I now say, publicly, that I was wrong to go see this movie.

Now at this point I could offer up some generic insights about how I felt, why I felt it and the lessons learned. But no matter what I say, the only thing you will want to know is, "Which Movie was it?" You would miss all the salient points and the nuggets of truth I might dispense. You might also take this opportunity to, silently and to yourself, pass judgment on me for my poor choice of movie and lack of moral certitude. "How could you see THAT?" or "DUH!" or even "What were you Thinking?"

So I guess before we continue any further, I must be transparent and tell you which movie I saw......

It was.......

Are you really certain that the title of the movie is That important? Shouldn't my pithy observations be enough for you? Shouldn't my revelation that I Was Wrong to see this film be enough to satisfy you?

No? Alllllllright!

It was "The Dark Knight", the second of the recent reincarnation of the Batman series starring Christian Bale as the Batman and Heath Ledger as the Joker. Not the Joker as I remember being in the comic books or earlier movies, but a more demented, evil Joker. So lets start with my observations. I my humble opinion, this movie had not one shred of redeeming value in it. It was dark, very dark, full of fear and horror, gruesome and base, demented and vile. And I ponied up $10 to see it! I had been harranged for weeks about going to see this follow-up to the first movie with Bale (which was pretty good and did have some redeeming value). Inside something told me not t go see it. And did I listen? No. I went. And the movie went on and on and on. Just when you thought it was close to the end, it took a turn for the worse and continued on its downward slide.

I think the thing that bothered me most was what I heard before I actually saw the movie then what I felt after I saw it. "The Oscar buzz for Heath Ledger, what an amazing performance he had, the depth of character he brought to the role of the Joker. Accolades and praise and great reviews abounded." Certainly it was heightened by his untimely death but that misses the point. "This was one of the must-see films of the year!" In all the reviews and effusive praise, never once did I hear anyone say, "That was a truly evil, demented film. Should he have made it all?"

How tragically sad that the last statement Heath Ledger made on this earth was the one of the Joker. This is how most people will remember him (and maybe for the gay cowboy flik as well). People gushed over his performance and called it Oscar-worthy. People talked about how he embodied the Joker and how his character was spot-on. How he really brought the character to life and make him seem almost likable. Yet no one seemed to be the least bit concerned about the content of the role, what he said and the seeds evil and mayhem he left in your mind. By the end of the film, you almost liked the Joker and thought "Yeah, he did kinda make sense, in a demented twisted sort of way." He was well spoken and used twisted logic to make his points.

I know I felt slightly nauseous and queasy when I left the theater. Interestingly, as we left the theater, we passed by a large group just letting out from seeing "Fireproof", the latest movie from the makers of "Facing The Giants." Completely redeeming, value-affirming and morally sound. People were leaving the theater with red eyes and with wet tissues. I, too, was crying inside because I has been seduced by the glitter of Hollywood and had parted with my hard-earned cash and left the theater feeling sick and, quite frankly, ashamed that I had been duped and used. We sat for 2 1/2 hours watched as evil and horror and death and destruction and torture and insanity played out before my eyes. I was not a guardian of my eyes that night. I let seep into my thoughts and soul the depravity of man, without a hope outside of the saving power of God.

Songs from years long past came to mind...."Be careful little eyes what you see..." Scripture exhorts us to guard our minds and hearts, being always watchful for the seeds of destruction that can lead to the crumbling of our walls and defenses. "Set no worthless thing before your eyes." Even if it seem fun and is "just entertainment" I must always be on guard.

That night, I was not. I am ashamed of my lack of conviction and my poor judgment. I can only hope that when I am faced with such a decision as that again, I will pass on it with flying colors, my head up, my defenses intact, my spirit and soul safe.

Being a little more watchful.
Traveler

Stale-Like a bag of opened chips.

I recently chided a good blogger friend about the state of his blog. It had not been updated in quite a while. His blog was crying out for some attention. And fortunately, he watered it with some excellent words. I, in my state of pridefulness, failed to realize that I was guilty of the same-said inattention. He rightly said that my blog was a little "stale." How correct he is. I have, over the last 4 weeks, been very busy and had a number of excellent ideas to blog on. But I failed in putting any of them in written form. And sure enough, I cannot remember a single topic that I found so scintillating. So before I decide, again, that I have nothing to say, I'll say the following.

I must be more conscious of doing now what I usually end up doing later or not at all. I am a procrastinator by nature and have not been doing a good job lately of "killing the old man." My intentions are the noblest and pure yet the results are unrecognizable and non-existent. I do that which I don't want to do and don't do what I ought. I recognize myself in the 7th chapter of Romans. Although we are talking about my blog, in reality we are skirting around the issues of my life.

Do you ever wish you were someone else? The one who is always on time, the one who is the best dresser, the one who's writing is flawless, the one who's life seems to be perfectly aligned with the world and God? That person is not me.

I know that I am flawed and unvarnished, a pot still on the Potter's wheel. Sometimes I wish that He would smash the pot and start again. I mean, can't he just add a little water and reshape me into a vessel for greater use? One who looks better and is more handsome? Does He really want to use me as I am?

While I know the answer, and so do you, this little bit of venting help me to see the perspective. He knows exactly what this vessel is made for, what it's uses are and what are it's strengths and limitations. And He still wants to use me. Amazing! It is I who must learn to be content in all things, I who must see the good in this vessel, I who must trust the purposes of the Master Potter. It is He who has made me and not me myself.

Does the pot say to the Potter, " Do you think it time for a Do-Over?"

I only get one shot in this lifetime. I must use what was given to me to the best of my abilities, and beyond with His abilities and Spirit. I must not complain, chafe at the bit in my mouth or allow my joy to be robbed. I can do all things in Him, who strengthens me.

Let the Spirit refresh your spirit and blow away any staleness. Keep your chin up! And your knees on the ground.

Watching for flying mud!
Traveler

Loyalty Beyond Reason

Its funny how one thing leads to another.

While doing some research for a college workbook I'm working on for a friend, I ran across a book that I found interesting for a variety of reasons. Only one of which I will elaborate on.
The name of the book is "Lovemarks: the future beyond brands" by Kevin Roberts. Now before you jump to the obvious conclusion concerning the title of the book, let me set you straight. It's not what you think. It has to do with well-known brands and the love they receive in being made and by consumers. Very interesting. Now what struck me.

The following is an excerpt from the book. Read it and I will explain at the end what struck me about it.

"If you believe in Mystery, clap your hands.

Peter Pan got it right. When Tinkerbell was clocking out because no one believed in her anymore, he asked the children of the world to revive her by clapping. Loudly. It worked. That is what Mystery needs, a surge of faith in its power.

The power of Mystery. You know it when you feel it. Marilyn Monroe had Mystery. Still does. Russell Crowe has got it-as a dangerous skinhead in Romper Stomper to Maximus to a reclusive mathematical genius.

The cloak of Mystery forces us to find our own meanings, our own sense of what is important in our lives. And it often does it through a revelation, a thunderbolt. What the French call coup de foudre. Everything changes. This is what made The Lord of the Rings, Chanel No. 5, and Red Bull into Lovemarks for their devotees.

Mystery opens up emotion. Mystery adds to the complexity of relationships and experiences. It lies in the stories, metaphors, and iconic characters that give a relationship its texture. Mystery is a key part of creating Loyalty Beyond Reason."

And just like that, I realized, once again, why I am so drawn to the liturgical style of worship. The Mystery of it all. The "smells and bells". The beautiful robes and incense and lofty phrases and prayers, speaking the way we spoke to God years ago. The stained glass and scent of holiness. The sense that He is Holy and Pure, Righteous and Just, Noble and True. The greater cause to which I want to, each Sunday, join anew.

I love the last three word of the above passage: Loyalty Beyond Reason. While these were printed in the context of inanimate articles for consumers, I felt the Spirit stirring me to, once again, cultivate Loyalty Beyond Reason for Him again. Because sometimes following Christ is not always reasonable and I don't always feel loyal. But the Liturgical style of worship encapsulates the Mystery that many Charismatics and Evangelicals lack in our corporate worship, that which we long for but cannot put our finger on, that which is missing in our daily devotionals. God has become our buddy, our pal, our good friend. Someone we "hang out with." But it has been a while since we have related to Him as Holy God, Righteous and Powerful and Awesome, the One in whos presence I cannot stand.

"Take off your shoes, for you are on holy ground."

I, like many of you, take Him for granted many times, especially in the busy-ness of my day. But Mystery in the liturgy draws me back in and reminds me of my place.

It is at His feet.

With ringing bells, stained glass and incense.
Traveler

Who's behind the Curtain?

Before I get to the salient points of this post, I must give credit to whom it is due. The point of this posting is due to a brilliant comment brought to light by my lovely and gracious wife. Credit given, point is now made.

The similarities between B. Hussein Obama and the Wizard of Oz is striking.

Think back to the scene where Dorothy and the Tin Man and the Lion and the Scarecrow are meeting with the Great and Mighty Oz. How they trembled and shook and even fell down before him! Powerful, Magnificent, Great of Wisdom, the Mighty Oz was! Smoke and Fire and Sound! As we watch the spectacle unfold, little Toto, the scruffy yet lovable mutt, runs off to the side and pulls on a curtain and exposes the secret of the Wizard. With a tug of cloth, The Wizard of Oz was revealed for who he really was. A small, frail huckster playing on the fears of innocent people, ruling by might and guile and fear.

Remember what the Wizard said when the curtain was pulled?

Wizard of Oz: Don't pay attention to the man behind the curtain.

Wizard of Oz: [speaking in a booming voice into microphone] I am the great and powerful...
[then, realizing that it is useless to continue his masquerade, moves away from microphone, speaks in a normal voice]
Wizard of Oz: ... Wizard of Oz.

Or how about another mythical metaphors:

It reminds me of being a kid at Easter. Remember getting a chocolate Easter Bunny, biting into it and it was empty and crumbled and only left you with a small taste of chocolate? Remember that feeling when you realized it is wasn't a solid chocolate Easter Bunny. That feeling of being gypped and ripped-off? Behind the facade that is Barak Obama, we find only empty space.

That is what people are discovering about his Holiness, Barak the Messiah. The deeper you go, the more you find out how hollow his platitudes are and how shallow and toothless his policies will be. Even the potential Republican Vice Presidential candidate, Sarah Palin, has more experience governing and legislating the does the main Presidential event on the ticket: The Great Black/White Hype!

I hope we, as a nation, don't wake up on the day after the election with a massive toothache from eating too much sugary candy and not enough Red (Republican) meat and potatoes!




Even ignorant canines got it figured out!

Making my appointment with the Dentist!
Traveler

Am I missing something?

This past couple of weeks, much time has been spent in watching both the Republican and Democrat National Conventions. I have listened to many pundits spew both wisdom and ignorance concerning both parties and all the candidates.

This is what I consider myself:
1. A Christian
2. A Conservative
3. A Republican

In that order.

As a staunch Republican, my Conservatism is a product of my Christian belief system and faith. I attempt to make all my decisions through the lens of my Christian belief system, not my Republicanism. I mean, what is being a Republican all about?
Is it about love of country or patriotism?
Is it about greater individual freedoms and restraints?
Does it concern the size of government or less taxes?
Is it about putting in judges who don't legislate from the bench?

Yes, it is about all these things and more. But true Republicanism is more about what it is based on. Where did the founding fathers get their ideas for this "noble experiment?"
Why the Bible, of course!
Not that you will hear that in any public school these days, but that is the truth of the matter. What we believe as Republicans is directly tied to the tenets found in the Scriptures. Yet, we seem to have lost our way, politically, morally and foundationaly. Rarely do you hear politicians of any stripe use the Bible as basis for any speech, piece of legislation, or position. We seem to have forgotten our roots, our place of birth, our cornerstone.
Some of us need to revisit the place of forging, where hammer and tongs created our great democracy.
A good starting place of refreshing is "The Light and The Glory" by Peter Marshall and David Manuel, followed up by the sequel "From Sea to Shining Sea." These two books help to reorient us to our national, biblical foundations, the whys and hows of this nation. The authors are Christian men who put pen to paper, less we forget. Dig the books up, share them with your children, less they forget.

Concerning the two demotivational pics at the top of the post: Having watched some of the Democratic National Convention, those two words ring loud and clear: Elitism and Cluelessness.
Both the leadership and the followers just don't get it. Hollow platitudes and pandering to special interests, the struggle for power and the willful deception of the masses seems to sum up my feelings about the DNC.
It reminds me of the saying, "If you can't dazzle them with brilliance, baffle them with B.S."
Elitism comes screaming through at each campaign stop and Cluelessness is what is the masses exude. People are so desperate for leadership and truth, righteousness and honesty, they will grasp at any Hollywood-esqe attempt at genuineness. People are gullible and easily led astray. There is a reason the Bible calls people "sheep." "Sheeple!"

Fortunately, I am led by a Shepherd. I hear and know his voice. He calls me and I follow. He leads me to green pastures and cool water. He restores my soul.

Do you recognise His voice and leading? I pray that during this election season, His Word will be a guide to your voting process.

Hoping for no hanging chads!
Traveler

Promoting the Pride

August 13 is a day that will live in my mind in infamy. It is the day my daughter Lindsay turned 13. I officially became a Father of Two Teenagers! Me! I mean, was it not just yesterday that she was throwing up on my shoulder and watching Barney and sticking food in her hair! Yet despite me, she has turned out to be an incredible, Godly, funny young lady. (Did I forget to add beautiful?)
Watching her, surrounded by her friends and family, opening presents and crowding around the chocolate fountain made me somewhat wistful and pensive.

Over the years, other who have passed this way before me, have told me that these years pass so fast. Needless to say, I didn't really believe them. I do now. Where have the years gone? Have I been asleep at the wheel, lost in thought. While at first glance I feel like I missed out on so much, on second thought I realize that I was so close to the action that I was unable to see the bigger picture till now. I have I been so intertwined with her life that as she has grown I have been unable to see the forest for the tree.

I had always promised myself that I would not be like those other dads who miss so much of their children's lives because of work. And looking back, I think I can say that I have kept that promise to myself and my girls. I have been there for almost all of their birthdays, promotion nights in school, events and trips and holidays and all the other things I needed to be there for. I feel a sense of accomplishment in not being able to say "What if I had been there?" I was there and hopefully, always will be. Its the least I can do for my kids. I enjoyed her turning 13 and I hope to see her turn many more.

Still lighting the candles!
Traveler

Row, Row, Row Your Boat!

Speaking of flooding, we survived Tropical Storm Fay last weekend. This was our introduction to local Florida weather. We have lived in and through tornado country, earthquake country and now tropical storm/ hurricane country. Two solid days of rain, wind and staying home! No work! Yeah! We also had house guests. My sister and her two boys were on their way to the Atlantis resort in the Bahamas via Jacksonville. She wanted to see her relatives. We had planned only a dinner with her, but ended up hosting her for two days. All the flights were cancelled and they had no way to get to the land of sunshine, white sand beaches and waterslides. But, being the hospitable folks that we are, we made the best of a wet situation and had a very good time. Talking, playing games, eating and watching the Olympics (at least when the Direct TV worked, which was more often than I had initially thought).

Having not seen my sister in a couple of years, it was good to catch up and fill in the blanks from so much time that has passed under the bridge of my life. Rebuilding the past through conversation and from memory has the tendency to give one pause and play the "W\hat If?" mind game.

"What if I hadn't moved from California?"
" What if I had made a different career choice?"
"What if I had not gotten mad at God and decided to follow Him instead of following me and moving in a different direction?"
"What if Steve Bartman hadn't caught that foul ball and the Cubs made it to the World Series instead of imploding?"

What If?

I find that, more often than not, my backwards navel gazing only stirs up trouble and pain and usually provides me with no more insight than if I just continue to look forward. "Press towards the goal for the prize of the high call of God." Phil. 3:14. I mean, all the "What If's" in the world can't change where I have been, or what I have seen or what I have missed or who I could have been. Each day brings me more revelation of the mercy and grace of God in my life. Each day I am remided of my frailness and need for a greater portion of God in my everyday existance. How thankful I am that He has not forgotten me or cancelled my place in the heavenlies. Lord knows He would be justified in doing so.

Yet....

He is loving and paitent and kind and forgiving. He keeps no record of my wrongs or missteps. He always surrounds me with mercy and grace. He do not give up on me.

Flooding has a way of reminding us that He has a way of cleansing and refreshing and replenishing. "His mercies are new every morning." As I work my way through my Daily Office I am constantly reminded of all these things. His Word seem to cover so many areas of my life. The more I read, the more of Him I am priviliged to see.

So, Don't Look Back. While it is a great song by the band Boston and is OK to listen to , Dont Look Back on your past and say "What if?" Make the most of This Day!

Looking Forward (with tiny peeks back)
Traveler

Seven Days at the Links of Utopia

Last week, a friend of mine, Henry, gave me a little book to read called "Golf's Sacred Journey: Seven Days At The Links Of Utopia" by Dr. David L.Cook. My friend and his wife work together to help Dr. Cook promote his book. He oversees the the website and business aspects and she the promotions. Like a good friend, I said I would read the book. I mean, after all, it was free and I like to read, especially free books. Not a large book, this was. 157 pages to be exact. But what a brilliant little this book was. Brilliant, entertaining and profound. For many reasons and on many levels. I read it in almost one setting. It captured my attention, imagination and heart. It is primarily about golf, with some fishing, art and relationship mixed in. It is a fictional story about a fictional golfer who meets Johnny, a fictional golf course owner, a Renaissance man of sorts. One week at the Links of Utopia. Yet the implications for me, a real person, were profound and palatable.

At face value, it is a tome about golf, what it takes out of you and what you have to put in to become a great golfer and to find your game. Not just mechanically but intellectually and mentally. Learning to master the game instead of the game mastering you. But on a more profound level, this book is about the deeper truths of life and spirituality. That what you do in life matters, how you live life counts and who you serve reflects who you are. When we come to the end of ourselves, what will we find? As Johnny said, "What will your epitaph say?" I felt challenged and stirred, thrilled and chastised, humbled and blessed. It's funny what the written word on a page can do to you.

First about Golf. Although I don't do much golfing these days, I did play a lot a few years back. I related to the highs of the game and to it's lows. There is nothing quite like hitting the ball perfectly. The sound of the ball striking the club face, the song of the shaft as it whistles in the air, the effortlessness of the swing, the flight path to the green. The book says it like this, "Finding the sweet spot is akin to finding religion or the taste of an aged cabernet......that's what keeps us coming back....the sweet spot is an addictive force." One of the reasons I quit playing so much was because I hit a plateau, that place I just couldn't get over. I knew I was a better golfer than what I was playing or what my score indicated, but I just couldn't get over the hump. Maybe I'll pick up the sticks again and head to the course with much of this book in mind.

This next paragraph will be a little long but bear with me. Remember, this is my blog and I am king! One of the places in the book that just thrilled me to no end and made me laugh with joy was when they talked about Face-On putting. I know I risk a bit by telling you parts of the book, but for me it was the next logical step in my revelation about putting. It started a number of years ago when my dad gave me a nice Ping blade putter for Christmas. While I should have been thrilled, I felt very disappointed. I had been having lots of trouble with my putting and just couldn't seem to strike the ball well or control it. I had been wanting to try something different. I did not want this type of putter. Hoping to not offend my dad, I hesitantly asked him if he would be offended if I traded it for a different style of putter. I could not make the blade work. To my surprise, he had no objections and was not offended. He, being a lifelong golfer, said that the game was very personal and each player had different styles and needs. He gave me the receipt and said to pick out what I really wanted. I ended up with an Odyssey Rossie I, a mallet-style of putter. I really liked it and loved the way it struck the ball. While I want to say that the choice of putter dramatically helped my putting game, it didn't. Oh, it did help somewhat in my control but not enough to make a real or sustained difference. I needed something more.
One day, I happened to be watching the Skins Game, a golf tournament held, i think, around Thanksgiving in Palm Springs, CA. And up onto the green strode the great Golden Bear, Jack Nicklaus. He got the lay of the green and sized up his putt. He then stepped to his ball. But instead of taking the normal putting position with his left side towards the hole and feet pointed away from the hole, he positioned his toes pointing directly at the hole and turned his body to face the hole. "What an awkward position," I thought. Then, using the standard putting grip, he, from the side of his body, struck the ball with a pendulum-type stroke and sank the putt. "Brilliant!" I exclaimed. "If it's good enough for the Bear on national TV, I determined to give it try. I felt desperate and was willing to try anything. It felt awkward at first, but soon I got the hang of it. It gave me the balance I had been missing and steadied my hands and swing. Surprise of surprises, it worked. I was able to sink many more putts than before. However, I did have to endure a lot of ribbing from my fellow golfers, because the stance is certainly unorthodox and goes against tradition. However, once I told my story and invoked the great Nicklaus name, the jibs and jabs largely stopped. But no one copied my style. This long winded passage brings me to this: the Face-On putting style. As I read this passage in the book, I was blown away! "Why hadn't I thought about that before!" This was major improvement on my style. It involves completely facing the hole and using a special putter, using a pendulum stoke to propel the ball to the hole. All while watching the hole with both eyes instead of out of the corner of one eye. Brilliant, absolutely Brilliant! I can't wait to get a hold of that putter and try it out for myself!

Secondly, back to the story. While the previous passage was long and winding and may not mean much to you, it was like revelation to me. Concrete answers to some of golf's mysteries. Yet the focus of the book, while it is about golf, was about playing on a bigger, more important course: Life. And playing in the Game of Life without The Giver of Life is like playing golf with broken clubs. It cannot be done well or successfully. This fictional tale struck a cord deep within me, all the way to the foundations of my life. Over the last 3or 4 years, the Lord has been rebuilding the foundations of my life, recasting the deep pillars on which my faith has rested. And like any building under construction, there is lots of reshaping, refinishing and rebuilding, sanding and chiseling and hammering. Lots of hammering!
Adding a wing here, taking down a wall there and this little book has served to sand off a few of the rough edges I still have and confirm that some of the pillars I have are still good and usable. I don't know what my life will look like 10 or 20 years down the road but I do know this: whatever it looks like or wherever I am, it will be because the Hand of The Almighty has seen fit to shape me and make me into vessel, fit for His service. Thanks, Henry, for getting into my hands a guide book for the front and back nine of life! You can check out the website, www.linksofutopia.com for information about this precious book and the ministry of Dr.David Cook.

Blessings,
Traveler

A Case for Homeschooling

You know that feeling when your computer crashes and you lose lots of good stuff! I recently got my computer back and found that I could access all my stuff that I'd thought was gone forever. The following is an article I wrote for the local homeschooling newspaper last year. Thought I'd post it so that I don't lose it again.

3-18-07

A Case For Homeschooling

By Jeffery Weita ( A Homeschooling Dad)

So, having suddenly woken up in the middle of the night with a stuffy nose and being unable to breathe, I found myself in the middle of a discourse with a man, explaining to him why it was I was a homeschooling parent. Was it a dream or was it real? I’m sure that you have found yourself awakened in a similar situation, in the midst of topics familiar and unfamiliar, with people both real and imagined and later said to yourself, “Oooohhh, I wish I had written that down. I was so good and logical and sensible. I laid that argument out so well! I just wish I remembered what I had said.” When suddenly I found myself wide awake and in front of my computer, tapping furiously away, lest the wisdom of the night dissipate like the clouds of vapor on my pond, on a cool morning at sunrise.

Many times during the last 10 years, I have often found myself reverting to the defensive when attempting to explain to individuals my position on a certain subject, which is often brought to the forefront by a simple question. “Why do you Homeschool?” This seemingly innocuous question has caused a plethora of answers to spew forth from my mind and mouth, everything ranging from quality of education to parental input to Biblical mandate to “it’s none of your business.” All of which are perfectly logical, sensible answers and all of which satisfies neither the questioner nor the answerer. So before I forget my cogent and precise arguments in my state of greater wakefulness, here is the answer I would always love to give at a moments notice without hesitation nor defensiveness. I have the ball. I’m going on offense!

Perhaps the most elemental of beginning is simply Choice. My wife and I find ourselves the primary educators of our children because long ago, before we were joined in holy matrimony, we decided during our courtship that one of the tenets of our union was to homeschool our children together. We had always felt that if God saw fit to give us kids, then it was our duty and responsibility, hence our Mandate, to, firstly, raise our children in the fear and admonition of the Lord and secondly, to provide a quality of education unmatched by government schools. Now while choice is the logical starting point, it, in and of itself, is not enough to keep us on the narrow road of home education. (Doesn’t “narrow road remind you of another reference to the “narrow road” that one takes on the journey of spiritual education? But I digress.)

Which leads us to Mandate. By definition, as given by Websters, a mandate is “…an authoritative command: a formal order from a superior court or official to an inferior one: an authorization to act.” And I, being an inferior individual, am sensible enough to recognize the call of a superior being, that call to act with authority from above to shape and transform the offspring entrusted to us, taking them from young skulls of mush to young men and women of God able to stand firmly on their own two feet and with confidence push back the tide of secular humanism that they will inevitably encounter in college, the workplace and in everyday life.

Having worked in the government schools as a teacher and having dealt with them as a foster parent, my former faith in the public educational system was shaken. I mean, was I not a product of public education and didn’t I turn out OK? Was I so enamored with the idea of freedom from my kids and the ability to acquire the necessary greenbacks that I was willing to sacrifice my kids on the alter of ambition and avarice? After hard thought, and hard thought it was, we decided that, as difficult as it may be, we would follow Mandate. Thus I worked for myself, out of my home, on one income, so that my wife could stay home and be the daycare worker, the kindergarten teacher, the after school monitor, the nurse and cafeteria cook. And great the sacrifice it was to do that. Our society demands that we look a certain way, drive the newest vehicle, eat at the hippest restaurants and wear the finest of clothing. Are we not taught that both parents working is for the good of the child? “Now we have the ability to give the best to our child, (if we only had the time).” But in whose interest is it, really? The siren call of material gain is tremendous. Yet we, like Odysseus, lashed ourselves to the mast of Mandate, not heeding the siren call of riches and made the life-impacting choice of homeschooling. For it not only impacted my children, but my wife and me as well. The doing without, the praying for sustenance, the giving of time and energy. We know that we are not alone in our choices, that we are not the first to carve a trail into the unknown, for many of you have made similar sacrifices for the good of future generations. It is Mandate that pushes us, guides us, keeps us.

Mandate leads us to Worldview. What does the lens through which we view the world look like? What are we going to teach our children and Why? A Worldview, according to The Universe Next Door by James Sire, is a set of presuppositions (assumptions which may be true, partially true or entirely false) which we hold (consciously or subconsciously, consistently or inconsistently) about the basic make-up of our world. We all see things in our world differently due to upbringing, culture, education and religion. And if Mandate dictates that we shape our child’s views, what is it that we use to hone and craft modern-day thinkers? If we are uncertain, it behooves us to find out. What do we believe and why? Because what we believe will inevitably be passed down to our kids. What we think, they will adapt and call their own. Is the lens through which I view the world Cross-shaped or does it look different? If the Mandate is passed to me from a higher authority I must know what that authority says about religion, politics, relationships, business, economics, art, music and literature. If I do not know, I must find out and when I find out, I must pass it on. It is OUR responsibility to raise our children with a Biblical world view, NOT the responsibility of a nameless, faceless bureaucracy with a Humanistic world view. We would no more leave our children physically in the hands of a stranger, yet many in our society feel compelled to leave them both physically and mentally with strange people and stranger ideas. If I am not with them during the educational hours, how do I know what is being instilled in their young skulls of mush?

Worldview leads us to Process. The How-to-do-it. What curriculum do I choose, how many hours a day, to FCAT or not, am I up to the task at hand? The Mandate is a great and glorious cause, the reason to cast caution aside and ride off into the sunset on a charger of great size. Yet the day to day, week to week, month to month can wear away at our resolve. Chuck Swindoll once said,”The problem with Christianity is that it is so daily.” Line upon line, precept upon precept we shape and fashion and mold. Resolve and stick-to-it-ivness become our handmaidens. Each of us have our own process, our own blueprint that we follow because we know our children the best and what is best for them. Follow your instinct and the prodding of your conscience. Our goal is to create children who think for themselves, able to process knowledge and information, not just learners who have accumulated facts but do not know how to apply them.

Never let ones questioning of what you do or why you do it cause you to question yourself. Are you called? Do you have a Mandate? Are you following your Mandate? Is your Worldview solidified, understandable and transferable? Does your Process bear fruit? Can it be replicated easily?

So I say to those who ask, “Why do you homeschool?” the following:

“We homeschool because we have made a choice to have a Biblical worldview which says that we have a mandate from God to teach, shape and fashion our children with time-tested methods and curriculum because we are creating world shakers and world changers.” I bet you that will create some opportunities for discussion. For we are called not only to educate our own but educate others. “This is the way, walk ye in it.” It is not for our personal gain that we engage in battle. It is for the hearts and minds of our children. If you don’t step up, who will?

Peace on the Journey!
Traveler

The Start of My Travels

These next numbers of posts will contain my life's journey up 'till now. My Testimony, as it were. I hope you will enjoy the written journey as best as you can, since you were not there for most of it. Feel free to use your imagination to picture the locations, situations and motivations I am attempting to present. Putting one' s life into black and white has taken a considerable amount of time and thought, and hard as I try, almost impossible to color it the way I remember, both in language and style. I can only hope that at the end, you will know me a tad bit more and yourself a little better, because we always see ourselves in someone else's story.

Traveler’s Wandering – The Early Years: Part 1

This is my life in capsule form. Taken in small doses, it can be enjoyable, but be careful not to overdose. I was born on February 15, 1964, the day after Valentine's Day, in West Covina, California. I guess I'm just a leftover sweetheart. For the first 5 years of my life, I lived in California with my mother and father. I recall bits and pieces of that time but nothing that I consider life shaping.

During my fifth year of life, my mother divorced my father and moved back to her parents home in Michigan. One of the things my mother unknowingly taught me was the importance of tenacity, which was in evidence upon the trip to Michigan. She drove from California to Michigan in a rented U-Haul truck, pulling an old '64 Rambler behind it and in the cab with her were her 3 small children. Not an undertaking for the faint of heart. Yet, she made it. She settled in Owosso, Michigan and did her best to raise 3 small kids on her own. She worked often and we spent lots of time with other caretakers, some bad and some very good. Grandma Carpenter was one of the good ones. She ran an in-home daycare facility. She could be stern but was also loving and really cared for me and my brother and sister. I started at a local public school and would go to her house after school. Much about that time is blurry and memories usually consist of remembered snapshots or of specific instances, single pictures in the album of my mind.

Through a mutual friend, she met Don Weita and within a year and a half, had remarried. The now newly formed family, (really a His, Hers, and future Ours family), moved to my new stepfathers hometown of Warren, Ohio, which would become my home for the next 15 years. Warren was a typical mid-western town, full of bicycle riding children, two story houses with basements and two parent families. I grew up in the family as the oldest boy, the second oldest child. I have 4 brothers and 3 sisters. Being the oldest boy, I usually was the local whipping post and lighting rod. When trouble struck, it usually struck me. I was stubborn and rebellious as any young boy is inclined to be. Trouble followed me like a plague. But I guess I always had the most fun, too. All the other kids waited to see if I would happen when I did something. If I got away with it, so could they. I never seem to learn my lessons. I was sharp-tongued and often mean. But hindsight seems to indicate that I was just compensating for being in a somewhat dysfunctional family. Blended families are never easy or clear cut and the best of intentions don’t always work out the way it is planned. The blending of individuals is never easy under the best of circumstances. I have learned much from my growing up years. I hope my efforts with my own family will reflect what I learned during those formative years.

One night, as I sat on the edge of the bed waiting to have my behind whipped for another infraction of family code, my stepfather,( who I'll refer to as Dad, for he really was the only father I’ve known), took some time to share with me about his relationship with a person named Jesus. On the verge of getting a spanking, I listened intently to every word that proceeded from the mouth of my Dad. But as he spoke, thoughts of punishment disappeared as my young mind grasped (for the first time), the concept of a loving God who cared for me and wanted to have a relationship with me and could forgive my sins and trespasses. And that night, I gave my heart to the Lord. Despite the fact that I was young and lacking in knowledge and reason, this incident left a mark upon me that is still evident in my life to this day. But despite my inward marking, it was many years before the commitment I'd made took hold and bore fruit. To this day, I still can't remember if I got spanked or not!

During our early years in Warren, we attended a Finnish Lutheran church. My Dad’s mother was from Finland and happened to be the church’s organist. So that’s where we went. I cannot remember even being in a church up until that time. The only memory I have of any contact with a church up to that point was on my journey from California to Michigan with my mother. I distinctly remember waking up one morning in Albuquerque, New Mexico to the sound of church bells. They were very beautiful and I remember them well. We were parked in a supermarket parking lot and had been sleeping in the back of the 1964 Rambler we were towing behind the U-Haul. Funny, what makes impressions on you at a young age that sticks with you for the rest of your life. Back to the Lutheran church. This time was very instrumental in life, although I would not recognize it until much later in my church going life. What I gathered, but didn’t realize it at the time, was an understanding of the mystery and holiness of God. There was something about being in that church, with the stained glass windows, the priestly robes, the candles, the liturgy and the formal music of the organ and choir that impacted my young life. It would not be till years later in my church worship life that I would come full circle and reconnect with the liturgical heritage that I had as a young child. I served as an acolyte and remember well the presentation of the Eucharist, the recitation of the Nicene Creed and the pattern of liturgy found in the Lutheran prayer books. The pastor was tall and grave, with a kindly smile and gentle manner. I remember the respect I had for him. I especially loved the special candle light services we had on Christmas Eve and New Years Eve. We would sit in the balcony and look down on the service below us. The tall, fragrant Christmas tree almost touched the roof, the beautiful singing rolling to the rafters, the sanctuary lit brightly with only the candles we held, the smell of candle wax. Beautiful and holy and magical those times felt to me. The Mystery of God the Father played out before my very young eyes. Unbeknownst to me, the Master was already creating pattern on the core of my being, the beginnings of an ongoing and never-ending painting.

Peace on the journey!
Traveler

Who...Me?

It's amazing what lessons life teaches us and the things that it reminds us of that we don't yet possess. Last Friday, while at the local homeschool convention here in Jacksonville, my wife took a fall and ended up with a bad case of whiplash. Needless to say, I was thrust into doing much of what my wife was suppose to be doing both during the convention and afterwards. I had to run her around to the chiropractor (whom we love and believe very much in), see to her every need because she could not do much for herself. She was in much pain with a neck brace, an icepack, Aleve and ibuprofen her constant companions, (along with her ever-present ice tea). I had to take her place at the convention, sharing with parents about the tutoring program my wife administrates, running the booth, shuttling children here and there to accomodate for the accident. I at home became the nursemaid, chief cook and bottlewasher, taxi driver and on and on. I cared for my wife and children and home, picking up the slack, all while being an efficent member of Team Weita. By now you may be ready to either give me a gold medal for my selfless efforts or you want to wack me in the head for needlessly grandstanding. Neither of which I want because that is not the point of my blog entry. I said all that to say this......
I am not the servant-hearted individual that I think I am.
What I found most surprising and a little disturbing during an analysis of the facts afterwards was the growing realization that tho' I looked magnificant on the outside, a beacon or paragon of virtue and servanthood, inside my heart was not filled with servant-heartedness and doing all as unto God. What this past week revealed was how little like Jesus I really am. Instead of responding with love and graciousness both inside and outside, I like the Pharisees, was a white washed tomb, full of dead mens bones. Looking great outside but inside was still like the old self that I want to crucify. I know that I have a long way to travel to be like Him. Although my grumbling and fussing and huffing and puffing was kept inside, to Him, it was loud and clear. Oh, I long to be one whose presence causes people to gather around and say, " I want to be just like him!". Instead I am probably one that people use as an example for wayward children, a warning to heed God or end up like "you know who!" I know that God in resident in me and is working hard to clean me up and make me more like He is. I know that he loves me and forgives me. I also know that he expects more out of me, even when others cannot see what I really think. I know that I will have many more episodes like this in the future, events that remind me of my sinful nature and my need to change. I can only hope that I can apply that knowledge liberally and that the lessons will be less painful and revealing. Like the De-motivational picture above, I can only blame myself!

Peace on the journey!
Traveler (and sometimes Stinker)