Time for a little listen

“Grandma,” my very tall 11-year old grandson instructed patiently, “Put your fingers over the laces, like this.”  We were having a lesson in how to throw a football. 

“That’s right,” he said encouragingly.   “But your pinky doesn’t need to be way out there.  Keep your pinky closer to your other fingers.  Like this.”  I studied his eyes to see if he was making a little joke.  He wasn’t.  Those eyes, a little taller than mine, were quite earnest.  So even though it amused me greatly to hear where to place my pinky on a football, my expression remained serious and attentive.

I resisted the impulse to gather him in a great hug and tell him how wonderful he is to honor me with football throwing instructions. 

I am learning to bless these grandsons and nearly everybody who comes into my experience more consistently.  By that I mean I am learning to pray better for and about them.

For instance a couple of weeks ago the two boys and I were having dinner, and they started provoking and insulting each other and paying no attention to anything I said to diffuse the escalating taunting.

I sat back and mentally withdrew from the verbal chaos to have a little listen with God.  It was important to hear what She knew about these kids.  Right there, right then, I could honor their goodness, their intelligence, their caring, their respectfulness -- qualities that seemed to be missing.

Suddenly it was quiet.  The conversation changed, and that was the end of the nastiness.

 The transformed atmosphere startled me into gratitude and an awareness that my thoughts, more than my words, were what mattered.  They hadn’t heard my words, but they responded to recognition of their true nature as God knew them.

Just as that boy placed my fingers where they belonged to make a decent throw, so a loving God places each of us where we are intended to be a blessing.  And She insists that we be that blessing.

Six-second run for life

Elk delights tourists - Rocky Mountain National park

Chicago outskirts.  Sunday afternoon.  Driving north on I-294.  

Suddenly from some brush on the right, a deer leaps onto the highway and dashes across.  We’re talking eight lanes of divided expressway.  

Clearing the center divide without a pause, she heads into Russian Roulette.  No words come, but my heart goes out in prayer.  The three additional lanes of very fast traffic coming up behind the semi that she darts in front of do not know she will be racing across their lanes. 

Yet in another instant she is intact in the brush on the far side and heading for forest.  As the doe reaches safety, a van in the next lane nearly swerves into my car.  The driver waves apologetically, shaking his head in amazement at what we have just seen.

No accidents, no one hurt, no damage.  And several pretty startled drivers.

Many people will say, “That was one lucky deer.”  My take is that I was privileged to witness that tragedy is not inevitable.  That deer-killed-on-highways statistics are not law.  That the Creator of the universe has established spiritual laws of harmony and they do govern.  Rather than being persuaded that crises are normal and unavoidable, we can and should expect to see this law of harmony in action.

When is it OK to disagree?

I recently saw the movie, “Whip It.”

I'm pretty particular about time invested in a movie.  It needs to have a constructive message and, for awhile, this one was iffy.  The teen, Bliss, was lying to her parents, and lying about her age to her new friends in the brutal contact sport of roller derby, and generally making decisions that were leading to unhappy results.

The redemption came when, after bitter words with her parents, Bliss left home.  The women on her racing team were older and tough; yet one of her new friends took her in, offering this kindly advice, “It sounds like you’re being selfish in your relationship with your mom.  If my son lied to me the way you lied to your parents, he wouldn't run away because I'd break his legs.

Turning to her little boy, she smiled warmly, "Just joking!"

Back to Bliss, "Just because you have a new family (with me and my son) doesn’t mean you should leave your old family.” 

Bliss’s indiscretions had also gotten her best friend arrested for underage drinking, followed by her new boyfriend cheating on her.  Bliss returned home sad and wiser.
 
Genuine love in the family allowed space for Bliss and her parents to talk and listen to one another, and move forward.  Everyone struggled to, and did, rise to the occasion. 

What I took away is the important message that unselfish love makes a solid basis for relationships.  It creates space for apology, repentance, and forgiveness.  When all the elements are there, love supports moving past mistakes into stronger relationships. 

A friend once told me, "It's all right to disagree, if we disagree in love."   I think "Whip it" reached that conclusion.

Love isn't what we're in, it's something that we do

 Truly spoken.  This simple song takes love -- in marriage and every other relationship -- to a higher level.  Beyond, "What's in it for me?" to "What can I give to this relationship to keep it healthy and beautiful?"

One of the cool things about the Internet is that you can develop a network of like-minded friends, and you share ideas pretty freely.  Kate Robertson found Clint Black first.  If you would like to read her thoughts about these lyrics, click here. 

A life without hate

A life without hate.  You begin toponder this unconditional love business.

Jesus taught "Love your enemies."  You begin to think there is a universal truth, maybe a law, behind this requirement.  Jesus wasn't talking to Christians at that time.  He was a rabbi talking to Jews.  And he said, "Love your enemies."  No conditions, no loopholes, just do it.

Alice will celebrate her 107th birthday in November.  She's the oldest living holocaust survivor -- and she loves everyone.  Here's an upbeat video interview with a remarkable upbeat lady.

Wild Bill's story

There’s a revealing account in a book called “Return from tomorrow,” by George C. Ritchie.  The hero was nicknamed Wild Bill because of the shape of his drooping mustache.  Wild Bill accomplished unselfed love through a conscious decision to forgive his enemies.  Here are some excerpts from that story as recorded by Mr. Ritchie.

 ‘He was one of the inmates of the concentration camp, but obviously he hadn’t been there long: his posture was erect, his eyes bright, his energy indefatigable.  Since he was fluent in English, French, German and Russian, as well as Polish, he became a kind of unofficial camp translator.

‘We came to him with all sorts of problems . . . . But though Wild Bill worked fifteen and sixteen hours a day, he showed no signs of weariness.  While the rest of us were drooping with fatigue, he seemed to gain strength. . . . . his compassion for his fellow-prisoners glowed on his face, and it was to this glow that I came when my own spirits were low. . . 

‘So I was astonished to learn. . . that he had been in Wuppertal since 1939!  For six years he had lived on the same starvation diet, slept in the same airless and disease-ridden barracks as everyone else, but without the least physical or mental deterioration.

‘Perhaps even more amazing, every group in the camp looked on him as a friend.  He was the one to whom quarrels between inmates were brought for arbitration. . . 

‘It’s not easy for some of them to forgive,’ I commented to him one day. . .  ‘So many of them have lost members of their families.’

‘Wild Bill leaned back in the upright chair and sipped at his drink.  “We lived in the Jewish section of Warsaw,” he began slowly, the first words I had heard him speak about himself, “my wife, our two daughters, and our three little boys.  When the Germans reached our street they lined everyone against a wall and opened up with machine guns.  I begged to be allowed to die with my family, but because I spoke German they put me in a work group.

. . . “I had to decide right then,” he continued, “whether to let myself hate the soldiers who had done this.  It was an easy decision, really.  I was a lawyer.  In my practice I had seen too often what hate could do to people’s minds and bodies.  Hate had just killed the six people who mattered most to me in the world.  I decided then that I would spend the rest of my life – whether it was a few days or many years – loving every person I came in contact with.” ’

It's very humbling to ask, "Would I be able to make that decision to remove hate from my life -- by loving every person -- even those who had murdered my children in front of  my eyes?"  This is what Christians of all stripes profess.  Yet Wild Bill was a Jew - and understood exactly the demand Life was making on him.  To not hate.   To live, to truly live and to live truly, he would love.

Opportunities to bless

"It is impossible to bless and judge at the same time.  So hold constantly as a deep, hallowed, intoned thought the desire to bless, for truly then shall you become a peacemaker, and one day you shall behold, everywhere, the face of God."

Pierre Pradervand

Isn't it pretty amazing, when you think about it, that we have the privilege, the joy, to be able to choose to bless, rather than to judge or condemn.

Sandhill cranes at sunset

 

Pass it on!

“Have you had a kindness shown? Pass it on;

'twas not given for thee alone, pass it on;

Let it travel down the years, let it wipe another's tears,

till in heaven the deed appears, pass it on.”

Henry Burton (English clergyman 1840-1930)

Goodness expands, multiplies, as we share it.  Goodness is funny that way.  Things, physical things, diminish as we share them -- only so many pieces of blueberry pie, and then it's gone.

But goodness isn't a thing, it's an attitude; it comes from an infinite source -- like a freshwater spring that never runs dry.  We aren't depleted by passing along our cheer, our goodwill, our warm approval of things beautiful.

And maybe, as Reverend Burton says, it's a duty.  Whatever kindness has been shown you, in the broader scheme of things, wasn't intended just for you.  Lest it shrivel for want of light and joy, pass it on!  You'll feel happier for having participated.

Beauty as a kindness.

The path

“There is only one path to Heaven. On Earth, we call it Love."
unknown

 

That path to heaven isn't always paved.

 

Just a high school reunion?

Two years ago a buddy from Carl Sandburg High School sent an email to a few friends.  Would anyone like to help put together a class reunion?

Several responded.  We each brought our talents, our joy, and our willing hearts.

Last weekend was the payoff.  A good crowd showed up for the Friday night event.  Many mentioned how glad they were to be there.  Several confessed that the personal phone call from someone on the committee helped them decide to come.  Some flew in; others drove across the country.

Hugs and hearty handshakes preceded fluid conversations as people moved into and out of groups.  Clique boundaries from high school days dissolved as people discovered friends and more friends from long ago.

Some of us even enjoyed a horseback ride.

Many stayed in town for Saturday events and Sunday breakfast.  The committee watched as the reunion became a great success.  What made it work so well?

I have my own take -- that everyone on the committee approached the project unselfishly.  No kidding -- this makes a difference.

We looked at the reunion as a gift to our classmates.  This love included careful attention to details.  Nobody had a personal agenda.   Assorted skills and talents meshed beautifully and were valued and appreciated by all.  The tone was wonderfully inclusive -- decisions included everyone’s input.  Those facing family challenges were warmly supported by the team.

For me the weekend unfolded on a pervasive underlying spiritual element.  It rested on a principle of Love.