Personal Insights From The Wednesday Past!

I am not kidding! This morning after a particularly disappointing Wednesday, I set out to do exactly what I wanted to do for once, just as I had decided prior to going to sleep! Even though I have some self-imposed writing deadlines beckoning strongly … and letters to write to some new book friends about the US, I knew this morning it was time to work outside; I really needed some therapy time. I’m sure you can relate but the fact is for most of you not enjoying retirement or at least a “wind-down phase” in preparation for such,  you seldom can allow yourself such a “personal passion day” (PPD). And you will indeed be amused (or not!) at just how I spent those “I want to do it my way” hours last Thursday!

You are likely beginning to realize now that one aspect of my life’s passion is creating, whether it be writing, or verbally communicating what I’d written prior, to people who I desire to be in relationship with, to enjoy hearing their response to whatever I’ve communicated so as to broaden my understanding and appreciation of them. Just as you may admire an athlete, a musician, or a particular craftsman, I have always admired skilled orators.

Strange now that at 70 years, I can say that I greatly admired one particular Bible scholar and radio speaker, even though his name escaped me recently, and not so much for his eloquence though he was a skilled and polished communicator, but I remembered him solely for his actions, whom I only observed one time. This person was Warren Wiersbe, author of more than 80 books, including his recent autobiography“Be Myself: Memoirs of a Bridgebuilder,” former pastor of the historic Chicago Moody Church and later radio pastor of Back-To-The-Bible Broadcasts. In fact, I can’t tell you now a thing he said that evening when I first heard him in person, but what he did prior to speaking, I’ll never forget as long as I live. When we arrived, he was down in the pews and aisles meeting and greeting folks as they filled the sanctuary of seven doors. Long time pastor of Kidron Mennonite Church, Bill Deweiler, had invited Wiersbe to speak that evening in the late ‘80’s, and no doubt quite a number of NE Ohio folks familiar with Wiersbe from his radio broadcasts on WCRF were in attendance, so he was completely in his  “element” of meeting and greeting his many friends from over the years. And for some unknown reason, that action by him that evening 40 years ago, really impressed me. So much so that his action precluded me even remembering for certain who this person was; as initially, I had him narrowed to three when Ruth set me straight. I knew his identity was with either Moody Bible or Back to the Bible and I was partially correct on both counts. But the point I want to make here is: it was the action I remembered that spoke volumes, not the man’s name or his ability with words. Perhaps that is the kind of disciple I wish to be. My identity is not at all important. Only my actions and possibly words in rare occasions, pointing whoever whenever wherever & however to being discipled by the Master of this universe, is of any significance. I have just began to read “The Thirteenth Disciple” by Paul Stutzman. Perhaps I’ll learn more from him about becoming a disciple in “late bloom!” to which he alludes.

I just now googled Warren’s name and found his first quote of the ten listed, taken from his “Be” series of commentaries to be as follows: “Each member in the body of Christ is important (I Cor. 12:12-31), and we all need one another and to minister to one another. Since there’s no competition in the work of the Lord (John 4:34-38; I Cor. 3:5-9), there’s no need for us to promote ourselves. The important thing is that God receives the glory.” from his Be Available: Judges. Interesting man indeed and I will be reading his autobiography soon.

So let’s return to the pervading question; just how  was I going to bless myself this Thursday by “doing it my way?” Certainly not by meeting and greeting! It should be no surprise then since I not only admire orators but enjoy reading, that I’d have my ear buds in and be listening to some form of encouragement. The disappointments of Wednesday inflicted their subtle attacks on my perception of my character as well as the understanding that nine month’s work had just possibly got flushed. I am continually tempted to take negative events that could possibly be connected to my actions as a reflection of me.

Before going to sleep Wednesday evening, I decided my therapy Thursday would be physical work in order to clear my head, as well as to get my strength and agility back.I didn’t even consider either a driving or shooting range for my emotional release; no, I needed physical work doing something positive and hard. I worked off my disappointments and rare anger as a boy, either by doing chores among the Holsteins or by cutting wood. Both were for room and board when younger but later, I cut wood for myself and money. That was a double win! Besides I didn’t have access to or money for either ranges, clubs or guns. Lucky me!

 I know God never wastes actions; ultimately, mistakes whether caused by us or others, can glorify God and build both character and virtue in us. If upon realization of the error, repentance and forgiveness is sought; restoration and renewal will be enjoyed. Already before going to sleep Wednesday evening, God reminded of a similar caper in my life, actually way back in April of ‘74, months  after we were married, when I did something far more stupid than what I was stewing over with God now for perhaps wasting my time? What I didn’t remember when sharing my memory of this caper In Sterling IL with Loretta, was that she was not even aware of the deception I’d instigated before leaving!  So very interesting how God so timely restored my memory after 45 years. That was His part in my restorative therapy! The rest was up to me. As St Augustine said, “God provides the wind, man must raise the sail.”

As you know, I do write with numerous bunny trails continually cropping up. Today, professional writers may use side bars offering you a choice to read or abstain. As of yet, mine are embedded in the script making such choices impossible. For example, I keep throwing you these historical clips that factually have contributed to making me who I am today … and help you understand perhaps why I write the way I do. But allow me another clip before we move into the garage.

Being 70 now, and actually this clip has nothing to do with our age, as much as it does with all of us finally realizing we are on “borrowed” time; and that will do one of two things to you and I in our psyche. Either, we’ll submit to the pressures that surround us, or we will rise up and resist those pressures. I do not believe there is a middle ground. Merely going with the flow of what you’ve planted and invested so far  in your life to date, whether young or old, is in my opinion, submission to mediocrity. For examples of rising up and resisting the pressures of, I’ll just mention two here, aging and poor investments. The effects of aging are largely determined by our investments of lifestyle, including our habits of good nutrition, adequate exercise and rest, avoiding or at least relieving stress, etc. Poor investments may trigger financial thoughts but even more importantly, are our relational investments on all fronts; with God, family, friends, acquaintances, as well as people you have not even met yet.

Personally, I’ve chosen to rise up and resist. But having said that, please realize, that we each possess a vast diversity of abilities when it comes to rising up and resisting. And generally rising and resisting (definitely not your typical R &R) is a journey that involves all of life and our continual change dependent on our readings, experiences and education.   

The whole point to this “clip,” is to tell you one way of many that I “seize my day” daily and that is by strategic intervention to secure a dynamic existence, or, a fulfilled and joyful life. The culture out there is in direct opposition to me or anyone accomplishing that! There are numerous ways to secure your dynamic existence but I am best acquainted with electronic enhancements such as audible books or YouTube, whether listening to scripture, podcasts, sermons, or uplifting  books that instill within me the desire to invest in myself and others as we together pursue becoming the best possible versions of ourselves; as well as enable you to become the best possible version of yourself. And I do these activities precisely, as many of you do, in our mentally unproductive times during physical chores, exercise, driving, or even while working if I’m doing rote meaningless tasks such as in my simple milk microbiology lab.

Some of you may contend you need your quiet space, and are not about to buy into this electronic invasion no matter how good the material. And I certainly will not go up against you on this point. But I am asking you honestly to consider  what you think about during your quiet times before you snooze. If after you reflect, God speaks and you take notes, you’re likely on track for significant spiritual growth and I applaud you!

So finally upon going out into the garage, I was greeted by all the tasks since my accident that needed my attention; Christmas decorations totes, boxes to be knocked down for recycling, and items to put away that only I knew where, and by all means, sweep the floor. I had attempted two cleanups prior in the garage, the first in December from a wheel chair. Not easy but I did later get pretty good at vacuuming carpet in the house traffic areas from a wheelchair. The second time was later in January on my feet,  but my strength was so limited. Today though, I felt I was well on my way to being normal by September 18, 2019.

I had taken the Prius out of the garage earlier but not the Explorer … and of course, its battery was dead from sitting too long, but that was soon rectified and in less than two hours, the garage premises were good for the moment at least.

Next on the list after the garage, were the two “bridges,” actually ramps that Chet Miller had built for me on our patio so Loretta could wheel me into the house. The therapy folks of course had to do their inspection of our home before they would discharge me, necessitating Loretta hauling me out to our home. They met us here, as I recall a day or two prior my discharge, with a list of tasks, including handrails on the bridges, which never happened! But it was only today I fully appreciated Chet’s  efforts when I closely examined his work.

You see, as I came out onto the patio area, which actually has three levels, I was  first confronted with what do I do with these bridges. Loretta wanted them removed, as did I, because they totally mess up the summer seating. No offense Chet, because you had followed my instructions precisely when I said I really don’t care what they look like, just make them simple and functional out of the scrap lumber upstairs in the barn as they’re just temporary anyway. 

And he did. I didn’t even know I had some of the heavy dimension pieces and as far as I could tell today, he only purchased two or three 1’x2’. But I’m getting ahead of my story. Actually, I first sat down to consider my options on the southern style rocking chair on the upper level that had contributed considerable history to our family. We had bought the chair in NC at a Cracker Barrel coming home in the early 90’s from Hilton Head. As I recall, Cracker Barrel was opening a lot of stores back then and we got well acquainted with this enterprising manager later one Saturday evening just before closing and learned these store managers were quite competitive with the other stores in their district. They had a record breaking Saturday, and evidently were ahead of the others, but still desired more sales to insure their honor. Fact is, we’d been looking at these rockers prior and on that evening, I think they were marked down $50., perhaps from $149 to $99, so we brought one home and helped them clinch their title. The rocker was a bit of a trick to fit in our Jimmy conversion van though, especially with the big Pioneer wagon and everything else.

But back to the bridge situation. Of course, I’d turned off the audible book for all this heavy rocking chair thinking because suddenly I had a dilemma. As I often do, I took a picture of the situation and then text it to my wife and our three sons. This was my text: “About to dismantle my most visible recent bridges of my life … certainly not going to burn them. I shall not need them again while I’m here! Is that determination? Or merely foolishness? I prefer to think wisdom. Blessings.”

But now, only twelve hours later, I find the wisdom comment as being quite presumptuous. Actually, when we built the addition in ’02, I was thinking we ought to make our home wheelchair accessible, in the event I ever needed such. But at the time, to do so would have required some major landscaping maneuvers and structural changes that were nigh impossible given our space constraints.

So today, before dismantling, I was thinking, what if I go down again for whatever reason (my record thus far for avoiding injuries stinks as I was on my back three times in the past 30 months and twice I needed a wheelchair for a month or longer ) and just when may I need  ramps again in order to get discharged to come home? The therapy folks kept wanting us to build this huge permanent monster structure with a much lower slope so I could self-navigate.

For me to self-navigate either up or down, was never conquered. It was just too steep and I would have needed rubber tires for traction. And when snow would blow in, it really got interesting. I never once even attempted going down myself. I could see the fatality caption: “Dalton man rolls wheelchair off ramp and breaks his neck.”

So what was my solution? I knew it had to go and as soon as I started dis-assembling, I realized Chet had already thought of that and had built the ramp bridges in components so they could be stored for a repeat performance if and when needed. He likely used four dozen wood screws and it was built tough enough to have served as bridges on a competitive dirt bike racing track. So the further I went in the tear down mode, the better I felt about retiring and storing it.

We speak loosely about burning our bridges to insure we do not have the option to retreat. And in my text, I said wisdom, but that actually was mostly foolishness. I may have great resolve and determination to not repeat my September 18 adventure, but actually, I have very little to do with a future similar incident regardless of my resolve or good intentions. Life happens and at my age and with my decreased agility and OI, things can go south quickly and force me to re-visit a wheelchair again. At least now we know the temporary structures are nearby and ready for access within an hour or two.

I’m sure some of you “curious George’s” are going to ask, “just which audible book were you listening to to counteract the negativity from the day prior, at least when you weren’t doing that heavy thinking for five minutes?” Actually, I do have a book I am returning to frequently in the past two weeks. I’m embarrassed to say this but I’ve “listened through” this book numerous times but have not yet read it or underlined it. Personally, I find reading a book so much more satisfying than merely listening to it but sometimes time only permits listening.

This book is by one of my favorite authors, John Bevere, and is titled “The Fear of the Lord: Discover the Key to Intimately Knowing God,” with four sub captions: Positions Your Heart to Receive Answers, Promises Divine Protection, Provides Clarity and Direction, and Produces Riches, Honor, and Life. It is strange how I’m so drawn to this one book recently but I do believe God knows both how fragile I am as a“late blooming” Christian. And he also knows the extent to which I need to more fully comprehend just how foundational  my understanding of the “Fear of the Lord” is to building a fulfilling joyful life.

You see, I always knew salvation was a free gift, one that I cannot earn, and that is true. However, and herein lies our challenge, neither can you or I retain it (salvation) if we do not give our entire life in exchange for it. Even a gift must be protected from being lost or stolen! John goes on to say “a true believer, a disciple, lays down his life completely for the Master. Disciples are steadfast to the end. Converts and onlookers may desire the benefits and blessings, but they lack the endurance to last to the end. Eventually they will fade away.”Jesus gave the Great Commission to “go therefore and make disciples of all the nations….”(Matt 28:19). Note again he commissioned us to make disciples , not merely converts.

I recently was reminded of two verses in Psalms that I have adopted for now as my verses of the 7th decade of my life. Psalms 145: 4 says, “One generation shall commend your works to another and shall declare your mighty acts.” Psalms 71: 17-18 says, “O God, from my youth you have taught me, (He taught but it was I who didn’t learn so well) and I still (perhaps I need to change it to read “I will still) proclaim your wondrous deeds. So even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to another generation, your power to all those to come.”

To this end may I be faithful. For His glory, my good, and hopefully, for your learning and enjoyment.

Blessings as you too GO FORTH BEING and MAKING DISCIPLES>>>>   Merlin