I want to share these posts with you, to help you consider what you are thankful for. Perhaps some are identical, perhaps some are analogous, perhaps some are completely foreign to you. But the thing that should stick with you is having an ATTITUDE of GRATITUDE, always. Just this one simple change in your life, on its own, can transform you.
Some of the details of these posts are rather personal; obviously, I'm not revealing anything i don't want to reveal. At this late stage, my life is an open book for reading and enhancement of others. But it also means there may be things which don't make sense because you don't know my background. Hopefully it will be clear enough in context, but leave a comment if there's something that's unclear, and I'll clarify. May God bless you in this season of thankfulness.
A
month of thanks.
Nov 11. I had this huge post about how we were
founded on the principle that the people should govern - that yes, originally it was the
“white male landowners”, but gradually it’s expanded to the ideal that ALL men
and women were created equal (even if
elements of society today want to renege on that belief today and use bullying
tactics to scare us in that direction).
Then I talked about how the 240 years of believing in the
American Dream - the idea that the economic power
belongs not to the bourgeoisie but the innovative and hard-working - led us to
become the greatest economic and not coincidentally military power on earth.
And that a strong military can be a danger when its beliefs run contrary to the
nation’s, but that we’ve been blessed with ten generations of leaders and
recruits who were the staunchest defenders of those principles - sometimes even
more so than the elected and unelected people in our government. They have
defended not just the people of this nation, but the very principles this
nation stands for.
Finally,
I thanked the men and women who have served in that military, who put their lives
and families at risk so that I never had to, and that I have never forgotten
that privilege, I promise I never will forget it, and that I prayed that those
who read this would never forget those who were the living manifestation of
Romans 13. It was a really great post, to be honest; I was very proud of it.
However, that post seems to have disappeared into the ether. So
this is not that post; it is merely a tribute to that post, a tribute to the
tribute to the men and women who may not have made this nation the exact ideal
the Founding Fathers envisioned, but who have made it closer than any other
nation than any other country in existence. Thank you, veterans.
An intermission, on an ugly topic...
In 1986, the McMartin pre-school trials were a frightening
moment in American history, when people were convicted in the public eye
through only the testimony of young children - children, it turned out, who
could be easily manipulated by prosecutors (even well-meaning ones) into
accusing people they SUSPECTED of guilt.
I know this because a
twelve-year old foster child wrongly accused me of such behavior that year as a
math teacher because she was getting a D in my class and wanted to get me in
trouble. It was professionally the scariest moment of my life. I have always
been grateful to both her foster mom and my principal, both of whom believed in
me and refused to go public with the child’s allegations without more proof,
despite the public mood - and sure enough, it quickly turned out that the child
was lying about a great number of things, including some items she’d stolen,
and my crisis was averted. But those types of accusations ruined many people
back then.
I wonder how many men are being accused falsely now and are
watching their careers explode. I’ve no doubt most if not nearly all of these
accusations are probably true, as there’s been an unspoken culture of male
sexual gratification for decades, it seems. But it would be trivial to do what
the poor twisted foster girl did to me right now: accuse someone you didn’t
like for your own vengeful purposes without evidence, and the public would
believe your accusations over his defenses without question in this
environment.
It’s hard to say that
without sounding like I’m belittling those women (and men) who are finally
seeing some justice for their pain. That’s not it at all. It goes back to the
American ideal: innocent until proven guilty, not the other way around. More
than anything else, we are supposedly a nation of laws. I would hate to see
that vanish in a climate of innuendo and hatred.
A
month of thanks.
Nov 12. I am thankful for the pain and severe
fatigue that I enjoy from my Tubular Aggregate Myopathy.
I have to be, because God allows it to
take over my body.
Originally,
its purpose was to slow me down enough to bring me to the Lord, with Melissa’s
loving help, and it did that, forcing me to quit my band teaching career along the way. I appreciated
that, actually, and the morphine, oxycodone, and gabapentin were able to keep
me sorta functional in the meantime.
Now, it’s progressed to where I’ll be retiring at the age of 53
as soon as the paperwork and evaluations get done. No amount of medicine is
preventing the fact that I can no longer drive or even travel any significant
distance, or do more than superficially hold or touch my children or my Dana.
I’d thought it was to give me time to write for the Lord, but I barely have the
energy or strength to do that anymore.
So, I don’t understand what the purpose of its continued
progression is, except perhaps to teach me humility. Which is fair, because the
pride of life is what’s killing me, and my loving God knows what needs to be
honed before I enter His Kingdom. So thank You, God, for loving me enough to
force me through this. It means I really am Your child.
A
month of thanks. No different than any other month,
except this one’s on Facebook.
Nov 13. I am thankful for where I live, and where
I have lived.
I spent the first 28 years (minus a year and a half at Caltech
in Pasadena) living in an old house in little Newcastle, California. Three acres on a little
knoll, pastureland and gardens and room to run around and explore. It was
wonderful.
After both of my parents died and I didn’t have anything tying me there, and as I saw the prospects for education in general and music ed in particular
looking worse and worse - and the urbanization of the region increasing by
leaps and bounds - I resigned at Penryn and spent my spring break looking for a
place to move to. The Treasure Valley, greater Boise, felt like Sacramento had
growing up, and so after the school year ended I moved up to stay with my
godparents Jerry and Vivian Gilbert in Emmett,
while I looked for a job.
God was
looking out for me even then. Despite moving so late, I had four job offers as
a band director in my first ten days there. I took the job in Kuna and spent a
year in an apartment in downtown Boise, a wonderful time I spent with my
dear Heather Kelly-Smith. Over time
I found a house out where Edwards is now, and after she met her future husband, Jesse, I ended up meeting
my first wife, Wendy. We bought a house on the Meridian side of town, the house
where Hamilton was born. Seven
great years teaching in Kuna and living in Boise.
But that
kept growing, too. Wendy and I were both country folks, and when Payette came
calling with an offer I couldn’t refuse, we moved into our favorite house, the
original hospital in Payette on Center Avenue, built in 1900. A big box,
beautiful home in a lovely little town an hour out of the city. Even with the
difficulties of the job, that was a wonderful place to live and raise our boys.
And for
the last twelve years, God’s places us all here in the loving, lovely community
of Jerome. I’ve always loved the Magic Valley - had offers to work down here
for years, and though the offers were never right, we loved the idea. My dear
friend Riqui Peterson had this
band job before me, and set it up wonderfully for me to succeed here. We had a
lovely house here, where the kids and I continued
to live after Wendy left; where Melissa and I spent our marriage; where we
lived until a year ago this month when it was clear I was too ill to care for
the home anymore and I moved to this trailer park.
So now, I’m
in a perfect place for my current situation- tiny home big enough for the kids.
But to my surprise, it’s been great for the children too. It’s the first real
neighborhood with other children we’ve been in, and the three youngest in
particular love it here. Rutherford spends more time outside than he ever had
before! And yet it’s quiet here, close to the middle school, close to the J
Center. Perfect.
And when it’s time to combine families with Dana, we
are both confident that God will find us a perfect home in Jerome to settle
into. He’s been so good to me and to her throughout our lives.
A
month of thanks. No different
than any other month, except the thanks are also on Facebook.
Nov 14. It seems appropriate today to express my thanks to not
just Pastor Gene Kissinger and Jerome Free Will Baptist, my current and
presumably final church home, but also to my other church homes: Clay Ramirez and Jerome
Believers, Kevin Lindley and the Life Church of Jerome, and Jeff Norton at
Northridge, which is where I first attended even before being fully led to my
knees while married to Melissa (who’d been saved since she was nineteen).
They have
all been such amazing men of faith, men of Scripture, and four of the finest
examples of what a Christian should look like. Well-read and extremely adept at
sharing God’s Word with not just Scripture itself (the absolute must) but with
real life stories and examples, analogies and applications to our lives. Each
has his strengths and areas that I’m sure they’d be the first to describe in
humility, but every one of them was a literal God-send for me and my family,
exactly who we needed at that moment in our lives.
Now, Jeff
and his amazing family (Caron and their
children) are on the east coast again, in their original stomping grounds. (And I miss them terribly. Even by pastoral
standards, Jeff Norton may be the most upstanding man I’ve ever known, true to
His Principles to the core.) Jeff is the most erudite Biblical scholar I’ve
ever had the pleasure of hearing preach.
Kevin
and Allison Lindley have found
their calling elsewhere, too, and last I heard were awaiting God’s directions
for their next step. I, too, have that sensation in my life right now: knowing
that it’s time to leave this post but not sure what the Father has in Mind for
me next. Scary, if you don’t have complete faith in His Plan for your life. (And He has never failed me. Ever.)
Clay and Heather and their beautiful little ones are still here,
doing what the two of them do best: bringing newcomers to Christ in easy to
swallow steps that don’t water down the Gospel, but still make church an easier
transition for those who hear His Call but may fear what Christianity might
“mean” in their lives. Believers was always filled with young people, many of
whom were even younger in the Lord than I.
And Gene and Sandy Kissinger have been friends of mine for years - their oldest child and
mine were classmates. Gene’s guidance as a pastor and as a friend has been one
of the most indispensable elements of my life these past few years: he has been
my biggest supporter as a writer, and so unwavering in his imitation of Christ
as to be living proof of the Holy Spirit’s presence in the world. As he would
undoubtedly say with all humility, he couldn’t possibly be so perfect a
demonstration of everything a pastor should be without Godly aid. My children
and Dana and I have been unreasonably blessed by his teaching, his example, and
his friendship. (And we’re now sort of related, since their daughter married my
step-son. Or vice versa.)
In my final career, God has called me to
go to work full time for Him (although certainly not behind a pulpit!). I can
only pray that I can do half the job these four men have given me as examples
to follow. Thank you all.
