Category: Current events


Where was God When Disaster Struck?

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April 30, 2013

Where was God when disaster struck?

God was with the baby who survived
because her window
was the only one in the house
that did not implode.

God was there to comfort
the woman who lost everything
she owned, and most
of her family.

God was with the family
who stuck together
during the tragedy
and survived – together.

God was with the family members
who were separated
before the disaster,
but found each other safe.

God was with the people
who – despite injury and loss –
helped others who could not
assist themselves.

God was there with the families
of the victims
helping them to deal with
the question of why?

God was there with the family
of those who may have caused
the disaster and who are
struggling to understand.

God was there with grace
to pour upon those affected
and help them to carry on
despite unexpected change.

God was there.

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Things Are Not the Same – Poem

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April 23, 2013

Chocolate Chips
Ritz Crackers
Girl Scout cookies
ice cream sundaes
pizza, pretzels,
caramel squares.

Things that we liked
when we were growing up
that we still like now,
but – somehow –
they just aren’t exactly
the same.

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Just Asking

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April 8, 2013

Athletes are told
that when they play
they should “stay within themselves.”

May I ask,
because I’d like to know
how do you “stay without yourself”?

When someone becomes known
after doing something for years,
they have been “under the radar.”

Now that they
are shown on the news
are they “over the radar”?

Just asking.

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Churches With a Past But Little Future

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March 24, 2013

Zion UMC 1When I take trips – or even when I am just driving around – I like to take pictures of churches. All kinds and types of churches, but small churches in particular. Churches that have been around for many years. Some are worn and broken down, but show signs of tender loving care and have the appearance of an active church – albeit with a tiny congregation. Other churches have not held services for several years, but still show signs of upkeep by faithful congregants or their descendants. The church buildings resemble souls on the side of the road.

Churches with a past – not the negative sort of past that the phrase ordinarily implies – but a glorious past of vibrant congregations, spiritual worship services, and dinners on the grounds. The church buildings, along with the surrounding property, echo the vocal strains of gospel music, prayers, and praise. I often wonder if the Holy Spirit doesn’t return occasionally to the former churches to bless them one more time for their meritorious service to the glory of the Lord. Roadside reminders of years of faith and praise.                   Preston Road Church

I am rarely traveling on Sunday in order to attend our church. I take pictures and write articles for the newspaper, website, and archives. But one of these weekends when I’m on the road, I’d like to stay over and revisit the churches I’ve seen. Mainly to see if they still have services. I would like to get pictures of the small congregations that have served throughout the years and still faithfully attend.

I’m afraid, however, I would find that they would be closed for good. My next question would be if someone was still tending to the building. Or if it had been left to nature and future real estate developers. Which is why I take pictures of those churches. In some small way, I want to preserve the memory of the congregations and churches that helped develop the society in which we currently live.

But I will not only post pictures of churches with a past and possibly no future. I will also post – in order to celebrate – pictures of ministries that represent the church in the world. Or simply unique churches.

Peace be with you.

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Pretzels Don’t Pour, Pet Peeves, and Forgiveness

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March 14, 2013

Pretzels Dont PourTo begin at the beginning, in case you didn’t know, pretzels don’t pour. To which you might reply with “who would expect them to?” Well, I would. In case you haven’t noticed, the bags that pretzels come in are considerably more fragile than regular chip bags. Regardless of how careful you are, if you are lucky enough to open it without tearing it down the side, the second time you reach in for more pretzels (again carefully) a jagged tear will appear.

The tear is always such that any further handling of any sort will cause the bag to begin the various stages of disintegration. When it happened again the other day, I grabbed a quart size baggie and attempted – for the umpteenth time – to pour pretzels into a baggie. At first, they poured as easy as stick-shaped objects can. Then they began to catch on the curled up edges of the pretzel bag.

I tried to gently jerk the bag to coax the pretzels into falling into the baggie. At which time the bag began to give way further, sending pretzels onto the counter and – to my chagrin – a few onto the floor. The more I tried to be careful, the faster the bag fell apart. I ended up having to pick handfuls of pretzels off of the counter and put them in the baggie. Which worked only a tad better than trying to pour them out of the bag.

I finally got the pretzels into the baggie. Minus, of course, the few that fell onto the floor. But not without some serious consternation on my part. A major cause of the consternation was the fact that I saw it coming. But even though I saw it coming there was little I could do to alter the circumstances.

And that is one of my pet peeves – I firmly believe that you can have more than one. When I see a situation coming in which I’m sure things will go awry, it ticks me off. I sometimes think I’m daring the situation to prove me wrong for a pleasant change of pace. Then, by God, it goes awry just like I thought it would. Which ticks me off even more.

I have other pet peeves as I’m sure you do. People refer to someone’s pet peeve. As if there is only one peeve and that one is the pet or favorite. It sounds as if it is special rather than a pain in the ass.

I’m sure God has quite a few pet peeves. The Old Testament illustrates a few. Breaking a commandment is a safe bet to touch on the real favorites. That is, if you equate “pet” with good or favorite.

But at the same time, God is forgiving. While I can be forgiving, I’m not as forgiving as I should be. If I was, it wouldn’t bother me as much that pretzel bags tend to disintegrate as one is simply getting another small handful of pretzels. It wouldn’t bother me that pretzels don’t pour. And when I can tell someone is going to do something stupid, I would forgive them ahead of time. Unfortunately, I’m not that forgiving. But I’m working on it.

Peace be with you.

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Not Just the Gideon Bible Anymore

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March 5, 2013

Hotel Room 1bIn the previous post, I was talking about my sabbatical to Marshall that ended up being unlike what I had previously imagined. I checked in to the hotel late Monday night. When I entered the hotel room after checking in at the front desk, I did what I have always done since taking vacations with my parents and my younger brother. Check out every nook and cranny of the room, beginning with the desk and all drawers.

The dresser drawers never had anything in them and they still don’t. Some hotels used to put extra pillows in the bottom drawers of the dresser, but that was years ago. When the desk drawer had hotel stationary. Now the desk does not even have a drawer.

Some things are the same. The book of information about the hotel and surrounding restaurants, shops, etc. A pen, a notepad, survey card, and the usual bathroom items. And the Gideon Bible in the bedside drawer. But when I opened the drawer this time – and found the Bible – the Mormon Bible was next to it. Which was comforting to me – like I said, I was there to quit a bad habit – simply because there is strength in numbers.

But it was also intriguing, because it was a hotel in Marshall, Texas – a town of 24,000 people. As best I could ascertain, there are two Mormon churches in Marshall. I don’t think two churches could afford to supply Bibles to all of the numerous hotels in Marshall. Which raises the question of which hotels and why? But that is a question for another time.

What matters is that the hotel having both a Bible and a Mormon Bible is a step toward understanding our neighbors and living with our differences. Perhaps there will come a day when you check into a hotel and there will be several Bibles or holy books of other religions. More for people of the different faiths who may stay at the hotel than for the proselytization of those faiths. The different holy books would also be available for anyone wanting to learn about other faith traditions.

Which will be a subject we will return to in this blog. One of the main purposes of Chasing After Wind is to write about those times – simple or complicated – in which life and theology intersect. And since I am a member of a few interfaith organizations, another purpose of the blog is to promote dialogue between all religions and faith-based organizations. Join me as we look for God in everyday life, and learn about other faith traditions.

Peace be with you.

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Getting Away, Reconnecting, and Recharging

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February 13, 2013

I was in East Texas a week ago. Marshall, to be precise. I had business in Jefferson, but there are fewer places to stay there. And less to do, to be honest. There’s not all that much to do in Marshall. But there were enough places to go to give me sufficient reason to leave the hotel occasionally, if I chose to do so. Which made working alone in a hotel room more manageable. Leaving is not as important when you simply know you can.

I had three goals in mind. The first – not necessarily in order of importance – was to reconnect with myself and recover from the end of year and first of year psychological roller coaster. From the emotional buildup before Christmas – which for us included plumbing problems beginning the weekend before Christmas and not ending until several days after – to the anti-climactic, questionable, introspection of New Year’s Eve, New Year’s Day, and the first few days – actually, as it turns out – weeks of the year.

The second goal was to quit a bad habit. I am fortunate to be able to say that – so far – my efforts were successful. The third and last – but certainly not the least, as they say – goal was to reconnect with God through music, meditation, and prayer. Actually, these goals were three parts of the same goal. Whether I reached all three goals has yet to be determined.

Reaching a goal whose finish line is not a mark in the sand, but an indistinct and flexible idea of a time in which everything will be “back to normal” is a rather elusive task. But the trip was for the experience as well as the goals. A chance to not so much take a break from the everyday, but see it from a different view. With internet, social media, smartphones and the like, it is, unfortunately, rarely possible to completely take a break from the “everyday.” If you think about it any harder, it is literally impossible.

I had this concept of the trip as a time of writing furiously and returning home with pages of prose and songs. Which was rather unrealistic. What I did accomplish – at least partially – was to realign my expectations, relax and spend time in prayer, contemplation, and guitar playing. Which is as much as I should have expected, being gone only three days and having an afternoon worth of business to take care of in Jefferson.

I also spent time thinking – in general, but also about this blog. With life not allowing posting opportunities in January, I also needed to revitalize the blog and reconnect with its purpose. Which always seemed obvious to me, but not to some of my readers. The purpose and goals of the blog will unfold as days go on. The About page will be updated along the way. Some things will stay the same.

But in the meantime, if you had four nights and three days to get away, what would you do? If you read any previous posts, what did you like most?

Join me – or rejoin me – on this earthly and spiritual journey.

Peace be with you.

[I have pictures, but apparently WordPress has not wanted me to upload pictures for a couple of days!]

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Happy New Year – Oh, The Places You Will Go!

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January 1, 2013

Rose Parade 1Cyndy and I were watching the Rose Parade this morning, as we do pretty much every New Year’s Day. The tv hosts are tolerable – more so, say, than those of the Macy’s Parade – and there is little more to watch on over 300 channels than marathons of shows we never wanted to see again. Not to mention the movies that we have already seen ad infinitum or do not want to watch anyway. Be that as it may, we usually end up watching the parade, which was themed Oh, The Places You Will Go this year, in honor of Dr. Seuss.

It is fascinating to see the huge creations painstakingly fashioned from plants with such vibrant colors. On the winning float an oversized Cat in the Hat was reading Oh, The Places You Will Go to Sally and her older brother while Thing 1 and Thing 2 looked on. Thing 1’s purple-colored hair was applied with tweezers. My patience has increased over the years, but is nowhere near the level it would take to complete that task.

While I was in the backyard getting some fresh air, my mind wandered and ended up in my childhood. My first books were the Dr. Seuss books. My parents signed up for the book club and each month we would receive a new Dr. Seuss book hot off the press. Since I was two years older than my brother, Dennis, I was always the first one to read them. There were days when I sat on the front porch, waiting for the mailman.

The day the book(s) came, I would rip open the package, remove the books, and head for my favorite bush in front of the left corner of the house. The bush was big enough to hide under and read. My memory is a little fuzzy on the bush – it could have been a weeping willow, which would make more sense. My mother later passed along the books to other parents with small children. I’ve often wondered while watching Antiques Roadshow how much that original set would be worth. As well as the Hot Wheels set that Dennis and I had running throughout the house that Mom also passed along when we no longer used them.

Needless to say – but I’ll say it anyway – this year’s Rose Parade held a little more interest for me than in other years. It also caused me to take a journey into the past and beckoned me to consider the new year and the places I will go. Not just to physical locations, but also in my personal and spiritual journeys.

Happy New Year everyone! May you all be blessed throughout the year and may your joys and successes outnumber the disappointments and shortcomings.

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Thanksgiving

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November 23, 2012

This morning I did what a father does best on Thanksgiving – stay out of the kitchen. Not because I cannot cook, because I can. But Cyndy cooks Thanksgiving dinner like her mother did. Exactly like her mother did. Which means everyone else stays out of the kitchen. If you want something to eat, you have to wait until Cyndy is sitting down waiting for something to cook.

The two of the three boys that are still at home wanted to help as they do each year. Fortunately, they have learned to wait until she calls them to perform their Thanksgiving duty. Video games have helped that situation. Cyndy knows that I’m available if she needs me – henceforth my job is to stay out of the kitchen.

The situation was enhanced this year because Cyndy fixed the entire dinner, with the exception of the rolls, because my mother is no longer able to cook as she used to. Mom did set the table and bake the rolls. My daughter, Jennifer, her husband, Chris, and daughter, Kelley, were at Chris’ parents and unable to join us. Even so, we had an enjoyable dinner and conversation.

Cameron, the middle son, helped collect the dinner plates and some of the silverware. Conner and J.D. helped themselves get to the den to watch football. They were watching the games with their grandfather and enjoying the time with him. Mom, Cyndy, and I continued the dinner talk about family at the dining table.

After a while, Conner left to get in line for a sale at Best Buy. I cleared the table of the remaining dishes and silverware while the three of us talked. Then Cyndy and Mom talked in the kitchen while Cyndy rinsed off the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. I went back and forth from football talk to kitchen talk. Then the second quarter of the Dallas Cowboys’ game was nearing an end and the Cowboys were behind.

So we packed up the leftovers and headed home. After putting most of the food up, we turned on the tv for the other family tradition – watching the Punkin Chunkin Championships.  We picked up on it a few years ago when we were avoiding the onslaught of early Christmas movies. Which was when it became a tradition.

I hope everyone else had a happy Thanksgiving as well.

Peace be with you.

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Day of the Guinea Hen

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November 14, 2012

Cyndy and I went out in the backyard the other day and discovered that one of the guinea hens from next door had overshot the top of the fence and found herself in our yard. She did not seem interested in exploring our back yard. She seemed intent on finding a way back to her yard, but clueless as to how to do so. She would strut in small circles, moaning with soft clucking sounds between the rose bushes and the fence.

Suddenly, the guinea hen would run for about ten feet along the fence. She would look startled and confused before racing back to where she began. Then she would begin the whole routine over again. As she ran down the fence, she appeared to be looking intently at the fence as if a hole  might open up at any time for her to escape through.

We did not let our dog, Misty, into the backyard for fear she would scare the guinea hen to death – literally. We were not exactly sure what Misty would do. So the hen spent several hours going through the same routine over and over again. Then our middle son, Cameron, let Misty out and she headed for the guinea hen, who flew back over the fence.

Which made me wonder why she did not fly back over in the first place. The obvious answer would be fear and panic. But that’s what made her finally fly back over. Did she continually go through the routine because she secretly enjoying the change, but was worried because she smelled Misty?

As Christians, we find ourselves in difficult situations we have placed ourselves in. When we overshoot a fence we should not be crossing in the first place. We find ourselves pacing back and forth, wasting energy, wondering where God is and why he doesn’t answer our prayers. We look expectantly, as if we will see a “hole in the fence” magically open up so we can walk into a parallel universe in which our problem is solved. But there is no parallel universe – only the one God created.

When God does not answer our prayers in the manner in which we would prefer they be answered, we begin to fear God. We begin to think that if he is not answering our prayers he has an agenda that may well be detrimental to our own, insignificant, agenda. Or even worse, that he is not thinking of us at all. So we keep pacing back and forth by the fence, calling out to any mortal who can hear us.

The fear begins to consume us. Finally, in desperation, we bypass the thought  processes and give ourselves to God’s grace and mercy. The fear pushes us beyond the limits of thought and instinct (understood here as faith) takes over. Surrendering to God’s will, we flutter over the fence and back into familiarity and home, where God put us in the first  place. God gave humans intelligence, but free will keeps us in doubt. We should work on dispelling the doubt and keeping the faith.

Peace be with you.

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