Worker Dead at Desk for Five Days

This unbelievable story appeared in the New York Times recently.

"Bosses of a publishing firm are trying to work out why no one noticed that one of their employees had been sitting dead at his desk for five days before anyone asked if he was feeling okay.

George Turklebaum, 51, who had been employed as a proofreader at a New York firm for 30 years, had a heart attack in the open-plan office he shared with 23 other workers.

He quietly passed away on Monday, but nobody noticed until Saturday morning when an office cleaner asked why he was still working during the weekend.

His boss Elliot Wachiaski said: 'George was always the first guy in each morning and the last to leave at night, so no one found it unusual that he was in the same position all that time and didn't say anything. He was always absorbed in his work and kept much to himself.'

A post mortem examination revealed that he had been dead for five days after suffering a coronary. Ironically, George was proof reading manuscripts of medical textbooks when he died.

You may want to give your co-workers a nudge occasionally.

The moral of the story: Don’t work too hard. Nobody notices anyway."

Now that is just sad, and I am filled with questions. I try to picture this man hunched over a manuscript day after day. He has a massive heart attack and dies but somehow, doesn’t fall out of his chair. Did he not at least fall forward onto the desk of his cubicle at the time of the coronary? I googled rigor mortis to see how quickly it sets in and here is what I learned:

Once the heart stops beating, blood collects in the most dependent parts of the body (livor mortis). Livor mortis is usually pronounced eight to twelve hours after death. Also at the moment of death, the muscles relax completely—a condition called "primary flaccidity." The muscles then stiffen into a condition known as rigor mortis, which begins within two to six hours of death, starting with the eyelids, neck, and jaw. The body then begins to cool (algor mortis).

So, I’m thinking that he was, at least, hunched forward onto his desk. I’m curious about his boss. If you have a worker that is so dedicated that he comes before anyone, leaves after everyone, and never strays from his task, doesn’t he merit at least a grateful, “Hello, George” or “Good Morning, George” from his boss every day? Does his boss not touch base with the 24 workers in the open-plan office every day? How hard is that?

And finally, what does that office typically smell like, that no one would notice the unusual odor of a body decomposing?

George was a lonely man. He lived alone; he died alone. Was it by choice? We’ll never know. Are there others out there like him? You bet there are, and while it is sometimes difficult to identify the lonely, especially when they are surrounded by friends, I have a responsibility as a follower of Jesus to reach out to the George’s in my life.

“There was a man all alone; he had neither son nor brother.

There was no end to his toil, yet his eyes were not content with his wealth.

‘For whom am I toiling,’ he asked, ‘and why am I depriving myself of enjoyment?’

This too is meaningless – a miserable business!

Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work.

If one falls down, his friend can help him up.

But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up!”

Ecclesiastes 4:8-10

Eating Crickets

I saw an episode of Ellen the other day; Salma Hayak was sharing what she called a traditional Mexican delicacy – fried crickets! I stood in front of the television in horror as she took a tortilla, spread sour cream, guacamole, and salsa on it, then covered the tortilla with fried crickets, rolled it up, and took a huge chunk out of it. After much cajoling, she even got Ellen to try it. It was the most revolting thing I ever saw!

My daughter, Sweet Pea, spent six weeks in Uganda, Africa on a mission trip several years ago. She told stories of huge termite mounds several feet tall. The locals get really excited about those because termites are a delicacy there!

Sweet Pea also went with a group from college to Spain, and attended a buffet one evening. It wasn’t until AFTER dinner was over that she learned she had eaten dog. She is still not over that.

We went out to eat with some friends to a fancy restaurant. They ordered the French delicacy, escargot…that’s snails to you and me. As they dug around in those little snail shells with their little snail skewers, I could not help but stare. Snails look just as slimy cooked and on a plate as they do inching around my flower bed!

I ate squirrel once in Arkansas. Tasted like chicken.

I ate turtle soup once in New Orleans. It actually tasted like vegetable beef soup.

I ate armadillo chili once in New Mexico. Tasted like regular chili to me.

So what is that makes some foods appetizing and other foods revolting, without even trying them? I can eat cows, pigs, chickens, turkeys, and even the occasional lamb. I would even eat deer, snake, duck or rabbit if one were killed, prepared, and cooked (without my knowledge) and just appeared at my dinner table.

I cannot, however, eat a horse, dog, cat, rodent (except for the above-mentioned squirrel), goat, monkey, or any other zoo animal or household pet. I also draw the line at insects. I did swallow a gnat once while jogging. Didn’t taste like anything, but I tried to cough it up, nevertheless.

I think of Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah who were among the young men of Judah commanded by Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon, to train for three years to enter the king’s service. The king assigned them a daily amount of food and wine from the king’s table. Daniel took one look at the food and resolved not to defile himself with the royal food and wine, since ceremonially unclean animals were used that were neither slaughtered nor prepared according to the regulations of the law. Daniel was merely demonstrating the courage of his convictions (Daniel 1:6-16).

For me, it is a culture thing. I was raised to eat certain foods and disdain others. It takes great courage for me to eat an animal I have not eaten before, but some are completely off limits.

What is the strangest thing you have ever eaten?

Congratulations

One of my bloggity friends posted this a few months ago. She received it from a friend out of the country. I would love to give credit to the author if only I know who originally wrote it. I googled it and got 687 results, none of which credited the original author. It is probably re-circulating in cyberspace BECAUSE IT IS SO TRUE! Enjoy.

Congratulations to all the kids who were born in the 1930's 40's, 50's, 60's and 70's

First, we survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or drank while they carried us.

They took aspirin, ate blue cheese dressing, tuna from a can, and didn't get tested for diabetes.

Then after that trauma, our baby cribs were covered with bright coloured lead-based paints.

We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets and when we rode our bikes, we had no helmets, not to mention the risks we took hitchhiking.

We drank water from the garden hose and NOT from a bottle.

We shared one soft drink with four friends, from one bottle, and NO ONE actually died from this.

We ate cupcakes, white bread, and real butter and drank soda pop with sugar in it, but we weren't overweight because...... WE WERE ALWAYS OUTSIDE PLAYING!!

We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back when the streetlights came on.

No one was able to reach us all day.

And we were O.K.

We would spend hours building our go-carts out of scraps and then ride down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes.

After running into the bushes a few times, we learned to solve the problem.

We did not have PlayStation's, Nintendo, X-boxes, no video games at all, no 99 channels on cable, no video tape movies, no surround sound, no cell phones, no personal computers, no Internet or Internet chat rooms.

WE HAD FRIENDS and we went outside and found them!

We fell out of trees, got cut, broke bones and teeth and there were no lawsuits from these accidents.

We ate worms and mud pies made from dirt, and the worms did not live in us forever.

We were given BB guns for our 10th birthdays, made up games with sticks and tennis balls, and although we were told it would happen, we did not put out very many eyes.

We rode bikes or walked to a friend's house and knocked on the door or rang the bell, or just yelled for them!

School sports had tryouts and not everyone made the team. Those who didn't had to learn to deal with disappointment. Imagine that!!

The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law was unheard of. They actually sided with the law!

This generation has produced some of the best risk-takers, problem solvers and inventors ever!

The past 50 years have been an explosion of innovation and new ideas.

We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility,

and we learned HOW TO DEAL WITH IT ALL!"

Kind of makes you want to run through the house with scissors, doesn't it?

Because of Jesus

I forgot to pack my lunch. Scheduled to have a lunch meeting with the junior class officers in thirty minutes, I decided to make a quick trip to Panera, one of my favorite sandwich shops. Ordinarily, I would call ahead and place my order so that it would be waiting for me. However, since it was 11:00 a.m., I thought it safe to just show up. Boy, was I was wrong.

As I approached the shop, I read a sign taped to each door. “We are currently experiencing difficulty with our computer system. Unfortunately, you will be unable to use credit/debit cards today, or take advantage of our wifi system. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause.”

I hesitated for a moment to make sure I had cash and headed to the line. It was a little long, but there appeared to be three cashiers working, so experience told me it would move fairly quickly. Boy, was I wrong.

After investing ten minutes in that line, and becoming increasingly uncomfortable because it did not appear to be moving, it became apparent to me that the problem they were experiencing was not limited to credit cards and wifi. I watched as one customer after another, paid cash for his food, took the pager from the employee, left the checkout line, and ambled toward the pick-up line, only to return minutes later to complain that his order was taking too long.

One gentleman with a thick accent started quite a ruckus. I first noticed him when he returned to the order line, cut in front of the next customer up and said, “I still have not received my order, and people who were in line after me got theirs.” “What did you order sir?” the cashier politely asked. He gave his order to the man again, who, failing to find it on the computer system, ran over to those making sandwiches and called the order out to them.

He ran back to his post at the register and proceeded to take another order as the increasingly agitated man paced from the register to the check-out area. Every few seconds he would yell something in the direction of the employees behind the counter. However, having discovered that the pagers were not working properly either, they were literally running from the register to the check-out area to give the orders to the sandwich makers. Finally, he yelled, “I want to see the manager!”

With his accent, he was a little difficult to understand, so had to repeat himself twice before one of the frantic employees stopped what he was doing and headed to the back to find the manager.

In the meantime, his order was filled and handed to him as he yelled, “It is too late! My lunch break is over! I have to go back to work!” As he headed toward the door he yelled over his shoulder, “I will be back this afternoon, and I expect to see the manager!”

By this time, I had invested 25 minutes in the line and had inched my way toward the front so that there was only one person ahead of me. I couldn’t help but smile as I approached the young man who had just been berated in front of everyone by that angry customer. As our eyes met and he saw my smile, I watched as his face visibly relaxed. He took my order, and as I left, stopped me and said, “Have a nice day” with such feeling, it spoke volumes.

Waiting for my soup, I stood in wonder at these employees, most of them probably making minimum wage, who, in spite of the anguish on their faces, shaking hands, and frantic movements, continued to solve the food problems of one customer after another patiently and politely. I thought of Jesus, his short life on this earth, and the way he died. I thought of the relationship I now have with him, a relationship open to anyone who will believe and accept him as Lord of their life, and I thought of the perspective it brings. Because of Jesus, I can be calm when all around are frantic, knowing that missing the occasional meal is nothing compared to missing out on a life with him. Because of Jesus, I can smile at a frazzled employee, even though I have waited in line for a long time. Because of Jesus, I can try to learn something from experiences such as this, rather than allow them to ruin my day.

Because of Jesus.

"Wherever you are spiritually

whatever you have been through emotionally,

you are already wrapped in the Lord's embrace,

held close by his nail-scarred hands."

Liz Curtis Higgs

The Heart of Lucinda Druell

I stumbled upon this poem on the internet, which recently won first place in the Faithwriter’s Writing Challenge. It tells the sweet story of God’s love and forgiveness. This talented writer, Kenn Allan, serves as webmaster for Christian Writer's Fellowship International (CWFI).

The Heart of Lucinda Druell

by Kenn Allan

The village known as Potters Glen,

Had one abiding jewel,

A beauty rare, yet pure of heart,

Her name Lucinda Druell.

Around her throat, three polished keys,

Of copper, brass, and gold,

Adorned a fragile silver chain

A treasure to behold!

When asked to what those keys belonged,

Her eyes would flash with fun,

She'd lay the charms across her palm,

Then clench them tight, as one.

"The first belongs to Heaven’s gate,

Which waits beyond the skies.

The second keeps my virtue safe,

Should impure thoughts arise.

The third unlocks my virgin heart,

For true love to possess.

And if men asked which key was which,

She’d tease, You’ll have to guess.

My summers passed with soul possessed;

Oh! love can be so cruel!

I dared not whisper my desire,

for sweet Lucinda Druell.

One autumn's eve, a devil flew,

To roost in Potters Glen,

Enchanting women with his charms,

And tempting hearts of men.

His eyes beheld Lucinda's soul,

So innocent within,

And with his smooth beguiling words,

Persuaded her to sin.

No sooner was her fall complete,

Lucinda screeched in pain,

She grabbed the keys around her neck,

And tore them from the chain.

"My copper key has turned to lead,

My key of brass to rust,

My golden key no longer shines!"

She flung them to the dust.

"I nevermore shall play the fool,

Of those who would entice!"

And then she tightly locked her heart,

And sheathed her soul in ice.

For me, that night, Lucinda died;

She vanished with the breeze,

To haunt the shadows of the night,

And lurk among the trees.

Her legend spread both near and far

The Vamp of Potters Wood,

Who craved the lusts of righteous men,

And sullied all she could.

Despite all this, I sought a way,

To save her from her plight,

But whilst I walked by light of day,

Lucinda prowled by night.

With winter came the tawdry tales,

Which like the snowfall spread

Lucinda dwelt on Widows Hill,

Consorting with the dead.

I wrapped myself in cloak and scarf,

To brave the wicked snow,

And pocketed three tiny keys,

Abandoned long ago.

The raging storm around me swirled,

To freeze my noble cause,

The trees above me scratched the sky,

With gnarled and craggy claws.

I soon ascended Widows Hill,

But near its dark plateau,

A specter loomed against the night,

And threw me to the snow!

Her raven hair was wildly tossed,

Her eyes were icy flame,

I smelled her putrid shroud of sin,

And heard her hiss my name.

So you have come, Lucinda said,

Her voice like crackling frost,

Remain with me forevermore,

And dwell among the lost.

From where I sat in frozen fear,

My thoughts in disarray,

Three tiny keys slid from my coat;

Lucinda looked away.

Repentance glistened in her eyes,

And shame eclipsed her pride;

I understood and scooped the keys,

All scattered at my side.

Hear me, O LORD, I prayed aloud,

Above the howling gale,

Bring comfort to Lucinda’s soul,

And let your peace prevail.

Restore her key to Heaven’s gate,

May virtue once more thrive;

And heal the blemish on her soul,

Which keeps her guilt alive.

I struggled on the frozen slope,

To rise upon my feet;

Lucinda cringed and backed away,

In hesitant retreat.

Fear not, my love, I reassured,

Don’t lose yourself to blame;

The LORD forgives your wayward path,

Come back, from whence you came!

I clenched the keys within my fist,

Before she could depart,

And lunged at her retreating form,

And held them to her heart.

A thankful moan escaped her lips,

She gave my fist a squeeze,

As melting ice poured from her chest,

And cleansed those tiny keys.

The copper, brass, and golden charms,

Shone brighter than before,

And in the glow of lessons learned,

I loved Lucinda more.

In early spring, we pledged our love,

Until death do us part,

And to this day I hold the key,

To sweet Lucinda’s heart.

How Common is Common Sense?

How common is common sense?

Not as common as you might think as I discovered in Target a few days before Christmas. I was perusing a toy aisle, looking for that perfect birthday gift for my grandson who turned one just two days before Christmas.

Trying to decide which one I wanted, I noticed a baby in a nearby shopping basket. He looked to be about nine-months-old and caught my attention as he stretched to reach a toy at eye level.

Thinking that he might fall out of the basket, I looked around for his mom. It was then that I realized that I was alone on the aisle with this baby. Yes, you read me right. I was alone on the aisle with this basket that held a baby in the front and a purse in the back. Incredulous, I looked to my left and right to make sure my eyes weren’t deceiving me. Not knowing what to do, I froze. Under no circumstances could I leave this baby.

A woman came around the corner pushing a basket that held what looked to be her grandchild. As she approached, she politely said, “Excuse me,” unable to navigate her basket around me and the basket I was guarding. As I cleared the way for her, I whispered, “I don’t know whose this is.” She looked to her left and right, and, convinced that she misheard me, said, “Excuse me?” “I don’t know whose this is!” She gasped and hesitated, unsure if she should leave this unattended baby either.

A few minutes later, a woman, presumably the baby’s grandmother, came around the corner, and swung the basket around, oblivious to the two women with gaping mouths staring at her. As she headed for another aisle the woman next to me muttered, “Some people are so stupid!” and stormed off.

For some reason, I needed to know that she was not going to do this again on my watch, so I walked from one toy aisle to another until I found not one, but two women with this baby. Yes, not only the grandmother, but the baby’s own mother had left him unattended. Yet, I could not bring myself to say anything to them. I admit that I feared their reaction and rationalized that nothing I said would make any difference; it would just make them mad. I also wanted to avoid a scene, not trusting myself and surely not trusting them. Shamefully, I must admit that I just walked away.

Isn’t that the same thing we do with our loved ones? Many times, I will hear of a couple getting divorced and think, “Well, everyone saw that coming. They have been having problems for years.” Yet, I do not say anything to them. After all, it is none of my business, right? How many times has God put something on my heart and I refused to acknowledge it because it would mean being in an uncomfortable situation?

“Brother, if someone is caught in a sin, you who are spiritual should restore him gently. But watch yourself, or you also may be tempted. Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.”

Galations 6:1-2

What Must It be Like to be Dad?

Late one night I was wrapping a stack of presents, when Kindred Spirit, my daughter visiting from out of town mused, “What must it be like to be Dad?” “What do you mean?” I muttered as I focused on the bow I was tying. “Well, he doesn’t go shopping; he doesn’t buy, bring home, or wrap the gifts. Yet, on Christmas morning, there are all of these presents under the tree from Mom and Dad, and he gets a “thank-you” like everyone else.”

It’s true; my beloved doesn’t “do” Christmas. I am, pretty much, the list-maker, shopper, buyer, and wrapper of the gifts labeled: Love, Mom and Dad. When the kids were young, he did go out at the last minute and get my gifts, and I loved every one. Often, he gave me money, knowing that I love to hit the mall for after-Christmas sales. Once the girls got old enough, however, they took over the chore of shopping for me, feeling that they knew better than he did what I would like. Since they took care of my gifts and I took care of theirs, somehow it evolved to what we have today, a dad who doesn’t appear to do much to help with Christmas.

The reality, as I like to remind them, is that it is their dad who finances this operation we call Christmas shopping. He also insists on taking over my part of the household chores so that my time is free to shop and wrap. His contribution is very much behind the scenes. In this way, he uses his gifts and I use mine.

Isn’t that just like church? Those with gifts that place them in the spotlight get all the attention for the works that they do, while the invisible worker-bees are behind the scenes, up to their elbows in service. Usually, these are the very people who do not want any attention, yet they need our encouragement and prayers.

“There are different kinds of gifts, but the same Spirit.

There are different kinds of service, but the same Lord.

There are different kinds of working, but the same God works all of them in all men.”

I Corinthians 12:4-6

What About Your Mother-in-Law?

With only 3 shopping days until Christmas, I take a deep breath, firmly set my jaw, grip the steering wheel, and inch along in traffic to buy another gift.

Having bragged the day before that I was completely through with shopping, with all of my presents wrapped and under the tree, it occurs to me that my beloved has not yet decided on a gift for his mother. After badgering him for days, “Have you thought about a gift for your mother?”, “What are you going to give your mother?”, “Do you have that present for your mother yet?” I finally resort to calling his sister. He has three sisters, and usually one of them will come up with a cool “group gift” they can all get together. However, this year, each sister has purchased her own gift.

So, I head to the mall at 10:30. We have a new outdoor mall in town with just about every store you could want. Traffic to the mall is heavy. Traffic at the mall is completely stopped. I finally park a good distance away and begin my trek, deciding that the distance is no big deal as everyone is walking outside from door to door anyway.

I am a fast walker; stroll is a word I do not comprehend. As I round the corner with my first destination in sight, I run smack into the packages carried by a woman strolling along with her head turned to her neighbor, deep in conversation. After much apology, I reposition my purse over my shoulder, place a death grip on the strap to ward off pickpockets, lean into the wind, which had picked up as soon as I approached the main row of stores, and continue on my way.

I’ve never been to New York, but this street of stores is close to what I imagine it to be like. The sidewalks are jammed with people. Joining the throng is like joining your friends on a jump rope in motion. You stand back; get the feel of the rhythm and at the first opportunity jump into the first hole you see. You quickly adjust your pace to that of the shoulder-to-shoulder mass of humanity, and, at the precise moment you reach your store, inch your way to the outside and drop out of the line.

A people watcher by nature, it is interesting to me how similar we all are as we breathe in each other’s tension and make it our own. Navigating my way through one store after another, I catch snippets of one-sided cell phone conversations. It seems that every lone shopper has brought a companion via cell phone. As I pass by, I hear one man whine to his cell-phone shopping companion, “I know a gift card would be easier; it’s just not fun to open a gift card at Christmas.” Maybe not, I‘m thinking, but it is way more fun than standing in the return line the next day. So go ahead, Mister, get that itchy sweater for your wife, two sizes too small with orangutan arms, and listen to her carp about the long line she has to endure the day after.

Still wandering around, trying to figure out what to buy a sweet mother-in-law, who doesn’t like to leave her home, doesn’t cook, has no hobbies, and won’t tell you what she wants for Christmas, I fall in line with an exasperated woman who is practically shouting to her cell phone shopping friend, “I have completely run out of ideas!” I chuckle to myself, “I’m with you, sister!”

Although I narrow my search to a few possibilities, nothing jumps out as being the one thing she would like to receive. After several hours, I take my aching legs, throbbing feet, sagging shoulders, and empty arms back to my car.

This experience reminds me of my Christian walk. I usually begin my ministry to others with great enthusiasm and energy, a song in my heart, and a spring in my step. However, faced with the challenges of difficult people, disappointment, and fatigue, the ministry often becomes drudgery. How often have I quit a good work simply because I got tired?

Isaiah 40:27-33:

The LORD is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He does not faint or grow weary;
his understanding is unsearchable.
He gives power to the faint,
and to him who has no might he increases strength.
Even youths shall faint and be weary,
and young men shall fall exhausted;
but they who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength;
they shall mount up with wings like eagles;
they shall run and not be weary;
they shall walk and not faint.

My Nest is Full, and So Is My Heart

We have a large family and my favorite times are when we are all together. Since two of our children are married and two are off at college, our home has become very quiet and relaxed, which I have come to enjoy. However, whenever one or more of the kids announces that they are coming home and word spreads to the others, they chime in with a “Me, too!”

I love the anticipation of their visits. My beloved and I count down the days as we busy ourselves cleaning the house, changing the linens, and filling the refrigerator and pantry with their favorite foods. I begin planning, shopping, and baking days before so that I can serve their favorite meals topped off with their favorite desserts.

This is one of those times. There are 4 shopping days until Christmas. The presents are bought, wrapped, and under the tree. My beloved and I maintain that we did clean, shop, and bake in preparation for their visit, but the college kids, Bud and Lovie, have been home 6 days and I can no longer walk through the house in the dark without stumping my toe on someone’s boot or textbook scattered randomly around. The pantry has been replenished twice, and the washing machine and dryer seem to run constantly. Lovie apparently “borrowed” my athletic shoes yesterday and took them with her when she spent the night with her high school best friend. I discovered they were missing as I was dressing for my Spin class. Bud decided that since we only take a few camping trips a year, we won’t mind if he takes one of our collapsible camp chairs back with him, as he needs more furniture in his living room. There is at least one television on at all times. Every morning this week, I have awakened to find the den TV still on from the night before. It seems that neither of them knows how to work our remote to turn it off, so they just turn the sound down and go to bed.

Kindred Spirit flies in today; her husband Sammy will join us Christmas Eve. Sweet Pea, Yibby, and Little Bud will join us for lunch and presents on Christmas day, as this is the first Christmas with Little Bud and they want to experience opening presents in their own home on Christmas morning with the baby.

This will be our first Christmas since we became empty nesters. In three short months, we have become used to, and actually grown to like having the whole house to ourselves with no day-to-day responsibilities for anyone other than ourselves. Having said that, however, I love having things to look forward to, and we have looked forward to Christmas and everyone coming home for weeks. I plan to savor every minute, every late night noise, every tiff, every chore, every hug, every moment of side-splitting laughter, every tense, highly-competitive game of Spoons, Mexican Train, or Mafia, every Christmas movie, and every tradition as I soak in their youth and energy.

There is plenty of time after New Year’s to sleep. For now, I don’t want to miss a thing!

“Christmas is not a time nor a season but a state of mind. To cherish peace and goodwill, to be plenteous in mercy, is to have the real spirit of Christmas.”

~ Calvin Coolidge ~
Former President of the United States

Lifestyle Choices (Psalm 1)

Dear Child of Mine,

Since the day you were born, I have prayed for you. As you venture out on your own, I pray that God will fill you with His wisdom, so that you will make wise choices. Life is just that, a series of day-to-day choices. Each decision we make, each daily choice, determines the next choices we are faced with in this maze of life.

As a child, I was required to memorize Psalm 1 for Sunday school. It occurred to me recently while re-reading this passage that it presents a wonderful lesson on lifestyle choices, contrasting the way of sinners and the way of the righteous. I encourage you to read it for yourself, but for your convenience, I have paraphrased it in this love letter to you.

Scriptures use various terms to refer to the people of God, those whom he receives in His presence and favors with His salvation and blessing. One of those terms is righteous. It doesn’t mean perfect, but rather refers to one who faithfully responds to God’s directives for life, for this is the path that leads to blessedness. Scriptures also use the term blessed to refer to the happy condition of those who revere the Lord and do His will, and put their trust in Him, and as such are blessed by God.

Here’s basically what the psalmist is saying:

A blessed person does not live his life according to the ways of the wicked or even seek advice from them. He does not choose to participate in their chosen, ungodly way of life, or to spend his time with them, for their lifestyle choices openly ridicule God and defiantly reject His law.

Rather, this happy man will delight in God’s word. He will seek guidance for his life in God’s word, rather than the decisions of the wicked. As a result, he is like a strong tree that withstands the buffeting of the winds and lives to provide strength and nourishment to all around him.

Not the wicked! They are like chaff, which is carried away by the lightest wind. Tragically, the wicked will not be able to withstand God’s wrath when he judges.

So remember this: as you navigate through this maze of life, if you choose the lifestyle of righteousness, the Lord will watch over you, for your very life honors God, and everything you do, every choice you make will be in accordance with His will. However, if you choose the lifestyle of the wicked, you are also choosing the tragic consequences that come with that lifestyle, both now, and forever.

Rest assured that this scripture is not only for the young. Even at my age, I am faced with the same day-to-day lifestyle choices. My prayer for you is that you figure out at a young age what took me many years to learn, for I love you with an all-consuming passion, a special kind of love that a parent has for a child. God placed this love in me the moment I knew you had been created, and it will fill my heart until the day I die. I am so proud of the person that you are becoming and so blessed to be your mom.

I love you,

Mom

A Life Controlled by Drugs

He’s sitting in jail as I write this, and his parents have made the heart-breaking decision to let him stay there for the next three weeks. His life overtaken by drugs, he is facing numerous charges of breaking into cars, car theft, drug possession, and driving under the influence. His parents hope to negotiate with the district attorney so that he will be allowed to go to rehab instead of prison, assuming, that is, that he will agree to go to rehab.

His life certainly didn’t start out this way. Raised by loving, Christian parents, he attended a Christian school for 13 years, kindergarten through 12^th grade. His father is a minister; church attendance and involvement have always been a way of life for this family.

I began to see small changes in him last year. He started hanging out with a fast crowd. He seemed angry, sullen. This year, the difference was more dramatic: weight loss, frequent absences, sleeping in class, and occasional extreme silliness. He often smelled like cigarettes. We called his parents to let them know, since it is a violation of our school code of conduct for students to smoke. His mother said that although he used to smoke, he promised her that he had quit. That was enough for her, but we knew he was still smoking; I was gravely concerned that it was not all he was doing. I scheduled for the “drug lady”, a police representative who brings a dog specially trained to sniff out drugs, to visit our school. There are very specific laws against searching students without cause, but a random visit from the “drug dog” can provide that cause. Unfortunately it was too late. One week before she was scheduled to visit, he ran away from home.

It happened on Saturday. His dad, on the advice from a counselor friend, bought him a brand new pool table. It seems he was advised to find something they could do together to help with their relationship. They spent the afternoon playing pool followed by dinner at his favorite restaurant. After a fun-filled day, the father turned in, satisfied that he had taken the first step to mending the relationship. Once the boy was sure that his parents were asleep, he fashioned a rope to his bedpost, shimmied down two stories, and ran away. A little over one semester away from graduation, he took off. No note, no call, no thought to his future, no concern about his family, just gone.

Two weeks later, his dad is sitting in my office, ready to withdraw him from school. He is a broken man: pale, emotional, guilt-ridden, at a loss for words, and perplexed as to the best course of action for his son. His days, which just a few weeks earlier, were filled with ministry opportunities, now are driven by gut-wrenching decision after decision.

I’ve been thinking about this boy a lot the past few weeks. I may not be tempted by drugs, but, like everyone else, I am vulnerable. I am all too familiar with the stench of Satan’s hot breath as he looms closer and closer seeking control over me.

“Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that your brothers throughout the world are undergoing the same kind of sufferings. And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm, and steadfast.

To him be the power for ever and ever.

Amen.”

I Peter 5:8-11

Out of the Mouths of Babes

One of the blessings of working at a Christian School is a morning devotional we call chapel. In the early childhood building (grades pre-k through second grade) the teachers pick a value of the week, such as love, honesty, etc. and plan the devotional around that theme.

Recently, one of our kindergarten teachers was preparing a skit for her class to perform in chapel. In the midst of assigning parts, she asked as her eyes scanned the room, “Who wants to be Jesus?” One little energetic, mischievous five-year-old boy quickly thrust his hand in the air. “Ok, Petey, you can be Jesus,” she said cautiously, trying to smother her skepticism that she could trust him with such an important role in the skit. Immediately, the little boy next to him, his usual “partner in crime”, reacted in a droll voice, “Well, if he’s going to be Jesus, I need to be God.”

It starts early, doesn’t it?

“He asked them. ’What were you arguing about on the road?’ But they kept quiet because on the way they had argued about who was the greatest. Sitting down, Jesus called the Twelve and said, ‘If anyone wants to be first, he must be the very last, and the servant of all.’ "

Mark 9:33-35

It Only Takes A Spark

"Just as an inferno begins with but a spark,
a field grows vast and plentiful from the sprinkling of seeds"

~ Stephanie Fries ~

There were about 100 of us from church who went camping together this past weekend. We enjoyed three days and two nights under the stars. We cooked our meals by campfire, slept in tents, and enjoyed the beauty of nature. Each morning someone would create a mix of wood, Sterno logs, and charcoal so that we could alternately cook our meals and keep warm. It was amazing to watch the blaze come to life and even more amazing how little stoking it took to keep the fire going.

At night we gathered around the fire to sing songs of praise. Inevitably, someone would start the hymn "Pass It On", which is often called, “It Only Takes a Spark”, not only because it is a beautiful song, but because of the irony of the song in relation to sitting around a campfire.

This hymn was originally part of a musical, written in 1969 by Texan Baptist musician Kurt Kaiser called, "Tell It Like It Is”. In the minds of many people, Kaiser and his friend Ralph Carmichael revolutionized the gospel music industry. In the mid-1960s, they wrote a series of musicals that incorporated the new sound of rock and roll to reach out to the youth who were feeling neglected by the church. Kaiser and Carmichael were amazed as the [musical] sold out its first run of 2,500 copies. In total, they sold about 500,000 copies of the musical. It remains his signature song today.

Pass It On

It only takes a spark to get a fire going.
And soon all those around can warm up in its glowing.
That’s how it is with God’s love,
Once you’ve experience it.
You spread his love to everyone;
You want to pass it on.

What a wondrous time is spring,
When all the tress are budding
The birds begin to sing, the flowers start their blooming;
That's how it is with God's love,
Once you've experienced it.
You want to sing, it's fresh like spring,
You want to pass it on.

I wish for you my friend, this happiness that I've found;
you can depend on him, it matters not where you're bound.
I'll shout it from the mountaintop;
I want my world to know;
the Lord of love has come to me,
I want to pass it on."

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love another.”

John 13:34-35

God Doesn't Like Bragging

In my previous post, Confessions of a Germaphobe, I confessed to bragging about my health, which I attributed to my persistent avoidance of doorknob touching. I soon learned that God doesn’t like bragging.

Last Friday night, my beloved and I ate a wonderful dinner and headed for the airport to catch a plane for Kansas City to visit Kindred Spirit and her husband Sammy. As we sat in the terminal waiting to board, I began to feel uncomfortable. In minutes, my stomach was bloated and cramping. It was pretty miserable, but quickly forgotten as we boarded the plane and headed to KC.

On Saturday, Kindred Spirit and I enjoyed a day of shopping and running errands. By late afternoon, I became distracted by my new visitor, a rolling stomach ache. After a couple of hours of that, it, too, went away. Sunday was a full day that ended with a visit to the Cheesecake Factory with family and friends. We had a wonderful meal, topped with a group dessert; you know the kind, a huge piece of cake and eight forks. I took one bite…one bite of the cake and was overcome with a sinking feeling. I am going to throw up. Right here, right now. My mind raced as we walked to our cars to head back to Kindred Spirit’s house. Can I make it to the house? Do I tell her in case I need her to pull over?

I did tell her and we made it, just barely. I then took a nap until time to catch the plane home. By that time I felt somewhat better; mostly I was just anxious about getting on a plane in case I got sick again. She dropped us off at the airport; we made it through security and stood in line to board. As you may know, Southwest Airlines does not have assigned seats, so it is first come, first serve. The flight was running behind schedule, so after about thirty minutes of standing in line, I started feeling bad again. Scouting around for the nearest restroom, it dawned on me that I was not going to throw up; I was going to pass out.

I leaned into my beloved and whispered, “I’m going to pass out.”

“No you’re not. You’re fine” (his attempt at positive thinking).

“I am. I’m going to pass out.”

You know how it feels when your arm or leg goes to sleep? Passing out feels like your whole body has gone to sleep. It tingles all over, everything goes black, and you have zero muscle control.

He grabbed me before I hit the floor, and together with a kind fellow passenger, dragged me to the nearest chair, then stuffed my head between my knees. The blood rushed back to my head and I soon felt better, awkwardly embarrassed, but better.

The airline allowed us to pre-board. We took seats near the front and I slept the whole way home. Once home, I was up sick most of the night, slept most of the next day with a splitting headache; I missed two days of work in all.

When I returned to work today, I received some genuine sympathy, but quite a bit of ribbing too. “So, how’s that doorknob thing working for you?”

Lesson learned the hard way: God doesn’t like bragging.

“Let not the wise man boast of his wisdom

Or the strong man boast of his strength

Or the rich man boast of his riches,

But let him who boasts boast about this:

That he understands and knows me, that I am the Lord, who exercises kindness, justice, and righteousness on earth, for in these I delight, declares the Lord.”

Jeremiah 9:17

Confessions of a Germaphobe

You may have noticed from my profile that I am a germaphobe. In particular, I am paranoid about public restroom facilities and doorknobs of any kind, anywhere.

Since I work in a school, I am faced with doorknobs all day long. I have become quite creative about opening doors without touching the knob. I might push the door open with my shoulder or elbow as you would do if your hands were full, or, if pulling the door open, I might whip out a Kleenex that just happens to be in my pocket, or cover the doorknob with my jacket to open it.

Shortly after school starts each year, we have our usual rash of illnesses that come from being cooped up in classrooms together and touching the same doorknobs. One by one during October each person in the high school office succumbed to a particularly nasty stomach virus. Everyone that is, except me. As the days wore on, I must admit that I got rather cocky, whipping out my Kleenex, avoiding all doorknobs. Last week, I took it to the next level. I bragged, not once, but several times. “I am the only one in my office who has not taken a sick day. Have I mentioned I don’t touch doorknobs?”

I realize that so many of these germs are also air-borne, but I have no control over that, so I refuse to think about it. Somehow, it makes me feel in control over my health to know that I am doing something proactive; I am actively avoiding doorknobs.

In my next post, I’ll share the lesson I learned the next day from such bragging, but for now, let me just say:

“Do not boast about tomorrow,

for you do not know what a day may bring forth.”

Proverbs 27:1

The Language of the Mind (Potential - part three)

The incident I shared in Potential – part two has weighed heavily on my mind as I have compared this young man to my own life growing up and that of the two boys I mentioned in Potential – part one. I am one of those people who responds positively to talk of my potential. To me, it means that someone sees qualities in me that I may not even see in myself. It motivates me to a higher level of behavior, effort, or achievement.

I am convinced, though, that such talk does not have the same effect on everyone. The difference, it seems, is in the interpretation, which is filtered by the language of the mind, what you say when you talk to yourself. For example, if you are constantly telling yourself that you are fat, then when someone comes along and says, “Wow, you are a big girl” because you are 5’11”, what you might hear is, “Wow, you’re really fat!” because to you big means fat.

In Potential – part one and part two, I shared stories of children who grew up with bitterness in their hearts, in spite of loving, nurturing parents. I am convinced that this heart problem is poisoned by the language of the mind. In 1986, Shad Helmstetter published: What to Say When You Talk to Yourself – A Rational, Methodical, incredibly Simple Program for Success and Lasting Self-Change.

He compares the human brain to an incredibly powerful personal computer that is capable of doing anything reasonable as long as you know how to use it correctly. However, if you give your mental computer (brain) the wrong directions, it will act on those as well and will continue to respond to the negative programming that you and the rest of the world have been giving it without even being aware of it.

Check this out: “Through scientific discovery, the relationship between your own "mental programming" and whether you will succeed or fail in any endeavor you undertake, from something as important as a lifetime goal to something as small as what you do in a single day, has been proven. In short, how successful you will be at anything is inexorably tied to the words and beliefs about yourself that you have stored in your "subconscious" mind!” (p10-11) The brain simply "believes" what you tell it most! And, what you tell it about you, it will create. It has no choice!” (p11-14)

He recommends a “Self-Management” Sequence – Five Steps that can control your success or failure.

1. Behavior: The step that most directly controls your success or failure is your behavior ("actions"). How you manage yourself, what you do, how you act, and every word you speak will determine how well everything in your life works for you.

2. Feelings: How you feel about something always affects what you do and how well you do it.

3. Attitudes: Your attitudes are the perspectives from which you view life.

4. Beliefs: What you believe about anything will determine your attitudes about it, create your feelings, direct your actions, and in each instance, help you do well or poorly, succeed or fail. The belief that you have about anything is so powerful that it can even make something appear to be something different than what it really is. Belief does not require that something be the way you perceive ("see") it is. It only requires that you believe that it is. Perception is reality.

5. Programming: Your beliefs are created and directed entirely by your programming. You believe what you are programmed to believe. Your programming ("conditioning") from the day you were born, has created and reinforced most of what you believe about yourself and what you believe about most of what goes on around you, whether the programming was true or false.

Your programming sets up your beliefs, and the "chain reaction" begins:

(1) Programming creates beliefs

(2) Beliefs create attitudes

(3) Attitudes create feelings

(4) Feelings determine actions

(5) Actions create results

Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, "Everything begins with thought. Life consists of what a man thinks about all day".

Even better and more simply put is the King James Version of Proverbs 23:7:

“For as he thinketh in his heart, so is he.”

What are your thoughts on this?