Life...

For about 3 years I have been trying to fix my roof.  Over that time we have had several reasons to postpone the job; lack of funds, oral surgery, dying drain fields.  Well, finally, some very good friends brought the roof restoration to fruition.  About 3 months ago 2 of them with extensive experience in building came to inspect my house and map out a plan.  Over the next weeks materials were bought and several tries were made to plan a work day.  Weather got in the way until today.  Twelve caring brothers in Christ came out today to fix my roof.  As the work began it was soon clear that there was no way we would get the work done today because there was much more wood rot than we thought.  As more shingles came up, more and more wood rot raised its ugly head.  What we thought would be replacing  3 to 4 sheets of plywood sheeting turned into almost a third of the roof surface.

I was nearly brought to tears as I walked about the property finding needed supplies and tools for the men who came to fix my house.  First I was distraught at how bad the roof was and how much longer it would take to fix and how much more it would cost for materials, and how much harder these friends would have to work and how could I have let it go for so long, and how could I have been so ignorant of what was going on and and and a....   Then I was struck by how blessed I was, yeah, how blessed.  With that much rot, there should have been water pouring into the house, but there wasn't.  With that much damage I could have been looking at thousands more in repairs, but it wasn't.  With that much damage this should have been so much worse...  BUT IT WASN'T.  Some might call it lucky, but I call it blessed.  By that time I was just glad to be on the other side of the shop looking for an air line fitting.  No one was there to hear me talking to God.

Now, sitting back n my chair, watching the Gator game, I realized the life analogy waiting to be written about my roof.  So here goes.  Life outside of God is like a rotting roof.  From the outside and from a distance, it looks pretty good.  Even when the owner knows there are a few problem areas, they can be easily covered up with sealers and tarps.  You can put a few new shingles over the really weak spots, and if you avoid walking near them you can probably keep things under control.  Our culture drives us to make sure to focus on how the outside looks because that's what others see.  We can often ignore what's going on under the surface because everything seems so normal.  Ignoring what really needs to be done will ultimately lead to collapse.  Life outside of Christ can leave us ripe for a collapse.

Well the roof is now patched and about a third of the boards are in place to mount the metal.  The whole thing is covered in a single large tarp, and I am sitting amazed at what God did today through the hands, backs and knees of 12 amazing guys.  (Hmmmm, 12 guys.....)

Faith During the Pain

Twang!  No, it was more like TWANG!  that was the sensation I felt on the last day of school nearly 3 weeks ago at approximately 10:15 A.M. as I was in the middle of a baseball bat relay during 5th grade field day.  I had just spun around the bat 10 times, and knowing what normally happens next, I just dropped the bat and stayed bent over for a few seconds while the world, and my stomach, stopped spinning.  After 3 or 4 seconds I began the return sprint back to the finish line by standing up, and that's when it happened,  TWANG! went my left calf.  I knew something was wrong immediately, but I hopped back to the finish and went straight to our class's cooler for a bag of ice; my fun and games were over.  As bad as the initial pain was, the more the day drug on, the worse I felt.  When I got home I wrapped it up and started feeling sorry for myself.

I was most upset because in 2 days, I was supposed to be starting a bicycle trip with the youth from my church.  The longer I thought on it the more upset I got, because there was NO WAY I could ride a bike for 20-50 miles if I couldn't walk 100 feet.  I texted Pastor Robbin, who was leading the ride, and told him that he might be down one group leader.  The rest of the evening was spent splitting time with the Ice pack and heating pad.

When I woke the next morning, I spent 30 minutes stretching out my sore leg.  I figure out how to limp with a minimum of pain, wrapped up the swollen appendage in an Ace bandage and prayed a lot.  I spoke to God about my desire to do the trip; after all, I had spent 2 months and a small sum of money preparing for the journey.  There were words asking for help, asking for comfort, and telling Him I needed courage because I had no desire to increase my daily quota of pain any higher than it is normally.

A couple of hours later, after prepping my bike and the girls' bikes, I tried something that seemed totally ridiculous, I went for a ride.  Just walking the bike down the porch stairs hurt terribly, but I had to try to ride.  To my surprise, as I began to turn the pedals the pain in my leg abated.  I rode around the yard, then out on the cul-de-sac out front, then I turned toward the hill up the road and took off for a half mile of no pain.

Back in the yard I dismounted.  Once back in walking mode I was reminded in no uncertain terms that I was injured.  Every step brought a sharp pluck of pain, but I had ridden with no pain.  I made the decision right then that I was going to do the 1st leg of the ride the next day.  I should be able to do 20 miles even though I was hurt.  It was the second day that would bring the real yes or no.  I would either be swollen up and in too much pain to ride the next morning, or I would be the same as I was.  If I was the same, I would go.

Each morning for the next 5 days started and ended the same way; with me asking God for help comfort and courage.  He was faithful the entire time.  I am convinced that God wanted me to go on that bike trip, and I leaned on that in faith knowing that He would make a way for me to ride because it was His will.  I gave each mile up to Him, thanking Him every 5 minutes for the next mile to come.  At the end of each day's ride I was reminded of the pain as soon as I dismounted, but it was the end of that ride and rest awaited me.

I did not do this ride on my own; in my own strength I could never have done it.  It was the strength of God that brought me through.  The next couple of essays will be about the form that His strength took: OJ, MF, NB, CM, JK, KF.

(Yes, it still hurts all the time, some times a lot.  I suppose it will take some time to heal, but I have time, as much time as He sees fit to give me.)


2 Corinthians 12 -    8 Concerning this I implored the Lord three times that it might leave me. 9 And He has said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.” Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. 10 Therefore I am well content with weaknesses, with insults, with distresses, with persecutions, with difficulties, for Christ’s sake; for when I am weak, then I am strong.

Old Man on a Bike... (or- Trying to Become Road-Kill)

    A couple of months ago the words, "Yeah, I'll go on the youth bike trip," came out of my mouth.  It was a moment of weakness, maybe I was trying to relive the care-free days of my teen years, maybe I was trying to be the cool dad, or maybe I was in the midst of a Tourette's moment and couldn't control my vocal nerves.  What ever the cause, I soon began a series of weekend rides of increasing length set up by Pastor Kuder, a man who I witnessed ride 26 miles in hot muggy weather without sweating.  These rides were intended to prepare those going on the trip for the sort of distances we would be experiencing on a daily basis.  Below is a picture of me on the first ride out to Fort Braden, a ride of about 21 miles.  I had a few things to work out on the bike: a better seat, gear adjustments, and rider positioning just to name a few

Notice the multi function carry rack that I have attached to my
ride.  It allowed me to carry lots of  momentum sapping
gear helping to make the ride all the more brutal.

    One of the things that Robbin wanted us to do was to include shorter daily rides during the week  between our weekend trial runs.  This was so that we would build up stamina and condition our bodies to withstand the grueling effects of riding our bikes long distances over consecutive days while we were on the trip.  My daughters we able to do this, and it paid great dividends for them during the week-long tour of North Central Florida.  I however, did not follow this regimen, having two jobs, I spent my off hours racking up seat time in my favorite recliner, albeit watching the travel shows on PBS.  I never really built up the necessary recovery mode needed for a series of days on two wheels.

After two straight days of riding, my middle-aged body was very reluctant to make a go of it on the third day, which started off with a substantial climb over the bridge between Bristol and Blountstown.  On the way down the back side of the bridge, I realized I had bitten of a bit more than I may have realized those few weeks back.  That day ended with a harrowing set of hills bringing us into the fair city of Marianna.  I was thankful for the early end to the day's ride and the 3 hour soak we would have in one of the local rivers that afternoon.

A dramatic reenactment of my triumphal entrance into Marianna
Caverns State Park on day 4 after a 3.5 mile ride. 

The next day was our shortest ride day of the week, only 7 total miles, broken into 2 equal parts, before and after a visit to a local park.  The exhibits and the chance to cool off in the limestone caves that the locale was famous for was a wonderful way to spend the morning.  The 6 hills we had to climb on the way there, then on the way back, not so nice.  I spent part of the afternoon looking for my left lung which had mysteriously gone missing on the way back to our hosts' facility.

I know the camera adds at
least ten pounds to you,
but my pink accessory set
really made me feel fat.

The next two days proved brutal on my forty ahm, cough cough... year old body.  42 miles on the 5th day, and 55 miles on the last day combined to sap every ounce of energy reserves left in my body.  On that final day, I twice moved to the back of my group to use the draft effect to its full potential; allowing the younger members of the group to punch the required hole in the wind, towing my worn out remains in their wake.  While cruising at the back of the pack I made a few decisions.

1- I will go on the trip again next year... It really was a ton of fun.  I'll write more about that later.
2- I need to drop a few pounds before next year.  Moving my brick-like form through the wind uses just too much energy.
3- I need to get more padding for my seat, a lot more.
4- I want to get one of those miniature  electric motors installed on the bike, just to help regulate cruising speed.
5- I need help for the hills; asthma and hills do not mix.

My first mock-up of the bike mounted
 hill ascent assist device (BMHAAD) went
well, except for the awkward riding position and
the probable harm to riders behind... and ahead.  No one
was injured (permanently) during the initial test
pictured here.

What I learned from my children this year

Each year comes and goes and each year I find out how little I really know.   Daily life can point out what you don’t know, your friends are good at pointing out what you wish you knew, and your boss can often point out what they wished you would learn.  It really is amazing, but I find that it is often through my children that I learn my most important lessons.

From my eldest son, Chris, I have learned a number of things.  He’s taught me to do hard things, even when you don’t seem to have time to do them.  This year he showed me the importance of taking chances.  He made changes in several important areas of his life this year, there was no need to, and he could have comfortably stayed in his proven routine.  He realized changes were needed and that they would be good for him.

My eldest daughter has taught me a lot about being a dad over the years.  Dominique has taught me to be gentle, patient, and cautious in the way I speak.  This year she showed me a new lesson, how to be willing.  Throughout this year she has shown her mother and I a willingness to take on whatever her circumstances require.  No matter what we have required of her, no matter the curves life has thrown, she has shown steadfastness.  When life got in the way of her plans, she accepted the new reality and moved on without complaint.  When I asked her to take on extra responsibilities at home, she did so and asked if she could help in other ways.

My youngest daughter, Alexandra, has taught me so many lessons of the heart.  It’s because of her words that I made a huge change in my life in 2006.  This year she taught me the meaning of truly smiling.  When she smiles, she doesn’t hold back, she lets it be as big and goofy and fun as it needs to be.  Her laugh has refocused me to what joys I was overlooking when I came home from a lousy day dozens of times this year.  It is because of her that I have begun to enjoy the pleasures of a good laugh again.

Jeremiah, son number two, has been a teacher to me on many fronts.  He is single minded about goals.  He has and shows a soft heart.  He stops to help others.  This year he taught me about trusting God’s plan for me.  I learned this from him after a practice session during which his coach had shared with him some disappointing news.  Instead of getting down, he considered his coach’s opinion as that of an authority put in place by God, and decided he would trust his decision.  He even had the boldness to tell his coach he was okay with the decision because it was part of God’s plan. 

“From the mouths of babes…” goes an old saying.  Well, my children are not babes, but from their mouths and from their actions I experienced wisdom spoken into my life.

Beautiful Ride

    What an amazing change in the air this morning.  I noticed a little of it first thing Sunday morning before the Chrome Diva's poker run, a little sniff of coolness.  Yesterday I went out the back door with all intentions of riding, but the fog was so thick that I could hardly see the workshop from my back porch.  TODAY however... how wonderful, how marvelous, how glorious was the crisp dry morning air.  The morning stars looked as though they were dressing up for a party.  The air smelled so fresh and so clean, I thought I was in a Glade air-freshener commercial.  There was an ever so slight touch of coolness in the breeze, enough to warrant a thick shirt, but not cold in the least.

    I woke up feeling a bit sluggish, feeling the usual regrets of youth in the various joints of my body.  I wanted no part of breakfast.  Lacing up my boots felt like a Herculean task, but when I walked outside.... Oh My!

    The first 2-3 miles of the ride to work are on our rural lane and a 2 lane twisty, hilly, canopy style road.  That part of the ride was so amazing I almost turned a u-ey to do it all over again.  Something was definitely right about the ride.  Not only were the conditions wonderful, the traffic was nearly perfect.  The lights were nearly perfect in their timing, I had to stop once, and even then I didn't put my feet down because the light changed to green right away.  The 2 jerks who usually plague the route I take to work (one young teacher from Rickard's High in a silver Impala and a dangerously impatient tailgater from the Fort Braden area who drives a gold tone Malibu) were blessedly absent from the commute today.  It was toes in the wind the whole way to school.

    As I got to school the only thing that I could think of was the fact that tomorrow's forecast called for identical conditions.  I think I'll leave early tomorrow and take the LLLLLLOOOOOONNNNNGGGGG way to work.

Why not?

     I am not sure why it takes me so long to do things.  I can keep some things (most things) simmering on a back burner better than most people I know.  I have a porch that has needed emptying for 2 months, a car that has needed an alignment for 5 months, a lawn mower and generator that have needed  new carburator  bowls for a year and a half, a roof that has needed recovering for 2 years, and a story that has needed writing for 3.  In so many other aspects of my life I am almost obsessively prompt, why do I pick a certain group of things to put o the shelf to steep like a barrel of old whiskey?  It drives me crazy when I think about it, and I know it drives at least one other person a little nuts too.

     I have never been one to make resolutions; resolutions don't strike me as things that are meant to be kept.  Think about it, when was the last time you kept one?  If you can remember, try thinking of another example.  Chances are, you're not going to have more than a couple of instances that you can point to as successes in the arena of resolution.  When I was a salesman, our G.M. always insisted that everyone put a "number" on the "big board."  I guess his thought was that if we saw it regularly enough we'd do something to attain it.  I never put much thought into the number, and I never gave a second thought to it once the sales month started.  In every other aspect of the job though I was focused in like a hawk.  I did everything on a schedule, from phone calls to prospects and customers, to walking the lot and the service department every single morning and evening.  I knew more about what we had on the lot and the big ticket customers in service than anyone else in the building.  I took advantage of every tool I had at my disposal.  Some months it paid off well, others, well, I padded my stories to people who asked.  As a teacher, I am one of the first people in the building.  When my door is shut and the kids are there it is game on, if I have to recite the parts of the nervous system while wearing a Slim-Goodbody suit I'll do it.  Focus is the catch word in my class.  So why two years for the roof, and three for the book?????

     I've got to figure this out before I turn 50.

Worst Case Senario... There is NO Election

     I caught myself thinking about this for the umpteenth time today as I rode home from work.  What's the worst that could happen before the election?...
   
     I keep coming up with the same answer; There is no election.

     Wait, don't be crazy!  you say.  There is no way that the election does not take place, you say.  Well, I hope you're right, but I have some concerns.

    They all center around the whole situation going on right now between Iran and Israel.  Unfortunately, Syria is involved in a bit of a mess, so people are distracted and not paying as much attention to what is going on in the area as they should be.

    Israel is in a bit of a pickle.  If President Obama is reelected in November, chances are he will down grade US relations and support of Israel.  Recent events in the US have shown that this is a very real possibility. The POTUS has not been very cordial toward our number one ally in the region since he took office.  He has called on Israel to tone down their rhetoric, called for them to rename their capital, called for them to move their borders back to 1967 lines, and he has made no move to block or condemn Iran's military movements into the Mediterranean Sea.  He has also made no effort to contradict  or condemn the statements made by by Iran's two most powerful leaders when they threatened to destroy Israel.  He has also done little to use US influence and leverage to limit the ability of Iran to access powerful international bodies such as the UN.  Add to that the obvious efforts of the DNC to erase an unpopular decision by the party of the POTUS to eliminate our recognition of Jerusalem as the true capital of the tiny democracy and you have a rather bleak picture painted for Israel should "four more years" actually happens.

    Thus Israel knows if it wants to remove the nuclear threat of Iran from their future they have to act before the first week of November.  Taking unilateral action against Iran between now and then affords at least the possibility that the US will honor standing agreements to assist them in the event of conflict with an Arab-State neighbor.  Wait till after the election, and there will be no guarantee that Obama will  not use an executive order to circumvent the enforcement of any treaties the US has with Israel for the protection of this long time ally.  I know that is a stretch, but just consider, would it really be out of character for him to do so?

    Part three involves what happens then... after Israel strikes Iran and the whole blooming area erupts in a blaze of gunfire and high altitude gas dispersion bombs.  The whole house of cards starts coming apart.  Fuel supplies from the Middle East (you don't really think the Arab Emirates and the Saudis will side with the US and Israel or stay neutral, do you?) get jammed up.  An emergency ramp up of US military forces occurs (you thought the Gulf War call up was big).  International and interstate travel becomes more difficult, expensive and less available (due to restrictions implemented by way of the Dept. of Homeland Security; you do still remember the first couple of weeks after 9/11, don't you?That was before the DofHS & the TSA).  Free access to the internet communications is eliminated or restricted by the Feds through the implementation of Executive order 13618 (signed just over 60 days ago, in 30 more it becomes law unless the Congress acts to block it) which gives the Feds the ability to use a national emergency to restrict our 1st amendment rights. (See it Here.)  You get the picture yet?

     Suddenly out of nowhere the hammer falls...  a state of emergency is declared by the POTUS and the use of one of the Insurrection Acts, a National Emergencies Act (Scroll to the United States), or the good old Homeland Security Act ( read this for a couple of paragraphs, then click on the Critical Infrastructure Protection provision) is leveraged to basically put us in a state of Martial Law.  Dependence on the government is now heightened and the TSA and local authorities have everything pretty well locked down.  Basic supplies (food, fuel, information) are at a high-cost low-availability level.

     We are then graced by his POTUS-ness with a dramatic, important, and historic speech; all the available news services are locked into carrying the news of change that is about to take place.  We hear that in the situation we find ourselves, any change in the executive branch would be seen as a sign of weakness to those who would seek to do us harm.  We are told that in the best interests of our grand and glorious republic, there comes a time when, for the common good of the people, we must put aside some of our normal privileges.  He goes on to announce that for the foreseeable future, (according to the  Insurrection Act, the executive branch need only report to the congress every 16 days, until the threat to national security is, as determined by said executive branch, gone) he is implementing a series of executive orders to get us safely through this period.  All elections will of course be postponed as holding them would have a detrimental draining effect on available fiscal resources.  (The news services all trumpet what a brave and unselfish leader he is; the ones who say otherwise are locked down by the TSA and DeptofHS.)

    Yeah, I know it sounds crazy, but there it is.  What's the ONE way the POTUS can guarantee he stays in power?  If there is no election.  He is not a native born American ( forget the forged birth certificate, his own college history shows that he was classified as a foreign student), therefore every act and law he has signed is by definition null and void.  Every decision by every judge he has appointed is void.  The purpose of his presidency has been and will always be to disrupt and destroy the power and influence of this sovereign nation.  So if he has been willing to play the game as such this far, would my senario be out of the realm of possibilities?  (Any armed or outward public outcry would be considered acts of civil unrest and be quickly and quietly put down under the previously mentioned executive orders.)