Author: Merlin Erb

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The Anabaptist Vision…

Part One of Two

Today I am compelled as I witness the North American Anabaptist landscape to introduce you to the scholarly presidential address by Harold S Bender to the American Society of Church History at Columbia University in NYC in 1943. The address has remained predominately in circles of the theologians and historians and few of today’s 500,000 NA Anabaptists in the pews have actually read it or discussed its significance.

Harold S Bender held degrees from Goshen College, Garrett Biblical Institute, Princeton Theological Institute, Princeton University and Heidelberg University. He was ordained to ministry in 1933 as well as the Dean of Goshen College, and from 1944 until his death in 1962 he served as Dean of the Goshen College Biblical Seminary. He became the President of Mennonite World Conference in 1952 and in 1927 he founded the scholarly quarterly, The Mennonite Quarterly Review and served as its editor until his death. 

This entire address of 35 pages plus 11 pages of extensive footnotes is available on Amazon or you may Google “the anabaptist vision summary” and the second choice, “The Anabaptist Vision by Harold S Bender – Goshen College” will take you to the address in its entirety. Here is my Reader’s Digest Condensed version if you prefer.

The Anabaptist Vision

“Judged by the reception it met at the hands of those in power, both in Church and State, equally in Roman Catholic and in Protestant countries, the Anabaptist movement was one of the most tragic in the history of Christianity; but, judged by the principles, which were put into play by the men who bore this reproachful nickname, it must be pronounced one of the most momentous and significant undertakings in man’s eventful religious struggle after the truth. It gathered up the gains of earlier movements, it is the spiritual soil out of which all nonconformist sects have sprung, and it is the first plain announcement in modern history of a program for a new type of Christian society which the modern world, especially in America and England, has been slowly realizing – an absolute free and independent religious society, and a state in which every man counts as a man, and has his share in shaping both Church and State.”

These words of Rufus M. Jones constitute one of the best characterizations of Anabaptism and its contribution to our modern Christian culture to be found in the English language. They were brave words when they were written in 1908, but they have been abundantly verified by a generation of Anabaptist research since that time. There can be no question but that the great principles of freedom of conscience, separation of church and state, and voluntarism in religion, so basic in American Protestantism and so essential to democracy, ultimately are derived from the Anabaptists of the Reformation period, who for the first time clearly enunciated them and challenged the Christian world to follow them in practice. The line of descent through the centuries since that time may not always be clear, and may have passed through other intermediate movements and groups, but the debt to original Anabaptism is unquestioned.

The sixteenth-century reformers understood the Anabaptist position on this point all to well, and deliberately rejected it. The best witness is Heinrich Bullinger, Zwingli’s successor in Zurich, whose active life-span covers the first fifty years of the history of the Swiss Anabaptists and who knew them so well that he published two extensive treatises against them in 1531 and 1561. According to Bullinger, the Swiss Brethren taught that:

“One cannot and should not use force to compel anyone to accept the faith, for faith is a free gift of God. It is wrong to compel anyone by force or coercion to embrace the faith, or to put to death anyone for the sake of his erring faith. It is an error that in the church any sword other than that of the divine Word should be used. The secular kingdom should be separated from the church, and no secular ruler should exercise authority in the church. The Lord has commanded simply to preach the Gospel, not to compel anyone by force to accept it. The true church of Christ has the characteristic that it suffers and endures persecution but does not inflict persecution upon anyone.”

Bullinger reports these ideas, not in commendation but in condemnation urging the need of rigid suppression. He attempts a point by point refutation of the Anabaptist teaching, closing with the assertion that to put to death Anabaptists is a necessary and commendable service.

But great as is the Anabaptist contribution to the development of religious liberty, this concept not only does not exhaust but actually fails to define the true essence of Anabaptism who had not only clearly defined goals but also an action plan of definiteness and power. In fact the more intimately one becomes acquainted with this group the more one becomes conscious of the great vision that shaped their course in history and for which they gladly gave their lives.

Before describing this vision it is well to note its attractiveness to the masses of Christians of the sixteenth century. Bullinger wrote in 1531 that “ the people were running after them as though they were living saints.” Another contemporary writer asserts that “Anabaptism had spread with such speed that there was reason to fear that the majority of the common people would unite with this sect. Zwingli was so frightened by the power of the movement that he complained that the struggle with the Catholic party was “but child’s play” compared to the conflict with the Anabaptists.

The dreadful severity of the persecution of the Anabaptist movement in the years 1527-60 not only in Switzerland and South Germany, but in all the  Austrian lands as well as in the Low Countries, testifies to the power of the movement and the desperate haste with which the Catholic, Lutheran, and Zwinglian authorities alike strove to throttle it before it should be too late. In 1529 the decree issued by the Diet of Spires summarily passed the sentence of death upon all Anabaptists, ordering that “every Anabaptist  and re-baptized person of either sex should be put to death by fire, sword, or some other way.” Even judges and jurors who had scruples against pronouncing the death sentence on Anabaptists, be removed from office and punished by heavy fines and imprisonment.

The authorities had great difficulty in executing their program of suppression, for they soon discovered that the Anabaptists feared neither torture or death, and gladly sealed their faith with their blood. Therefore, since the customary method of individual trials and sentences were proving totally inadequate to stem the tide, the authorities resorted to sending out mounted soldiers and armed executioners to hunt down Anabaptists and kill them on the spot singly or en masse without trial or sentence.

The Anabaptists bore all the torture and agony without fear. The things of this world they counted in their holy mind only as shadows, having the assurance of greater things. They were so drawn to God that they sought nothing, desired nothing, loved nothing but God alone. Therefore they had more patience in their suffering than their enemies in tormenting them. The prisoners sang in their prisons and rejoiced so that the enemies outside became much more fearful than the prisoners and did not know what to do with them. Many were talked to in wonderful ways, often day and night. They were argued with, with great cunning and cleverness, with many sweet and smooth words, by monks and priests, by doctors of theology, with much false testimony, with threats and scolding and mockery, yea, with lies and grievous slander against the brotherhood, but none of these things moved them or made them falter.

Before defining the Anabaptist vision, it is essential to state clearly who is meant by the term “Anabaptist,” since the name has come to be used in modern historiography to cover a wide variety of Reformation groups, sometimes thought of as the whole “left wing of the Reformation” (Roland Bainton), or “the Bolsheviks of the Reformation” (Preserved Smith). There is no longer any excuse for permitting our understanding of the distinct character of this genuine Anabaptism to be obscured by Thomas Munster and the Peasants War, the Munsterites, or any other aberration of Protestantism in the sixteenth century.

The Anabaptists were concerned most of all about “a true Christian life,” that is a life patterned after the teaching and example of Christ by establishing congregations in which repentance was evidenced by fruits from their newness of life in Christ. The Anabaptists believed the reformers, such as Luther and Zwingli, did not secure among the people true repentance, regeneration, and Christian living as a result of their preaching.

There is abundant evidence that although the original goal sought by Luther and Zwingli was “an earnest Christianity” for all, the actual outcome was far less, for the level of Christian living among the Protestant population was frequently lower than it had been before under Catholicism. Luther himself was keenly aware of the deficiency. Between 1522 and 1527 Luther repeatedly mentioned his concern to establish a true Christian church, and his desire to provide for earnest Christians who would confess the gospel with their lives as well as with their tongues. Zwingli faced the same problem; he was in fact specifically challenged by the Swiss brethren to set up such a church; but he refused and followed Luther’s course. Both reformers decided it was better to include the masses within the fold of the church than to form a fellowship of true Christians only. In taking this course, the Anabaptists said the reformers surrendered their original purpose, and abandoned the divine intention. Others may say they were wise and statesman-like leaders.

The Anabaptists, however, retained the original vision of Luther and Zwingli, enlarged it, gave it body and form, and set out to achieve it in actual experience. They proceeded to organize a church composed solely of earnest Christians, and actually found the people for it. They did not believe in any case that the size of the response should determine whether or not the truth of God should be applied, and they refused to compromise. They preferred to make a radical break with 1500 years of history and culture if necessary rather than to break with the New Testament.

Luther’s expressions of his partial failures and dejection are well known. Contrast this sense of defeat at the end of Luther’s outwardly successful career with the sense of victory in the hearts of the Anabaptist martyrs who laid down their lives in what the world would call defeat, conscious of having kept faith with their vision to the end.

Therefore, by having defined genuine Anabaptism in its Reformation setting, we are now ready to examine its central teachings. The Anabaptist vision included three major points of emphasis: 1.) Discipleship, 2.) Brotherhood, and 3.) Love and Nonresistance.These three will be reviewed in the next posting. Blessings as you ponder the significance of either your heritage or the spiritual integrity of the martyrs for all believers.   Merlin

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What Is Driving Your Relationships?

“The happiest people on the planet are the men and women who have dynamic relationships. They give focus and priority to their relationships, and as a result have a richer experience of relationship and of life. 

John Wooden, the college basketball coach of note, once said in an interview with Sports Illustrated : “Why is it so hard hard for so many to realize that winners are usually the ones who work harder, work longer, and , as a result, perform better?” It is in true in sports, it is true in business, and yes, it is true in relationships. 

There are winners and losers in relationships. I am not talking about the games that have become a seemingly intrinsic part of the modern dating scene. In a relationship, one person doesn’t win while the other loses. It is absurd even to speak in such terms. Either both win, or both loose. That’s why so much is at stake. That’s why we feel so powerless and helpless at times in relationships. That’s why it is so important to choose the right people to spend our limited time and energy in relationships with. When I speak of winners and losers in relationships, I speak of the reality that some couples win and other couples loose. 

The state of our relationships has an impact on every aspect of our lives. You don’t leave a struggling relationship at home when you go work or school, and you don’t check a tumultuous relationship at the door of your other relationships. If you have a relationship that is struggling, there’s a good chance it is affecting many areas of your life. The troubled relationship may be with a spouse or significant other, or you may have a relationship with a colleague, friend, child, parent, or sibling that has fallen on rough times. Relationships affect us deeply, and a failing or struggling relationship can have a negative impact on the way we perform at work, the hope we hold for the future, the way we feel about ourselves, what we eat or don’t eat, the way we spend our time, and every other aspect of our daily life. On the other hand, when we are thriving in our relationships, especially our primary relationships, we tend to carry a very positive atmosphere wherever we go.

A dynamic primary relationship doesn’t just change the social aspect of our lives, it changes our whole lives by changing the way we see ourselves and the world. 

This book is about giving you the tools necessary to create a dynamic primary relationship. The Seven Levels of Intimacy provide a simple model – the strength of any good model is simplicity – but the the process is not easy. Sometimes the biggest mistake we make is believing, at the outset, that the journey ahead is going to be easy. Such a traveler almost always comes unprepared and under-supplied. 

You may be well into your journey and have discovered that you need to stop to get resupplied; you may be just beginning your journey; or you may be trying to decide whether you want to set out at all. Whatever the case may be, I am delighted that our paths have crossed and I hope the ideas that fill the pages of this book will prove useful to you in your quest for intimacy.

It takes a lifetime to build great relationships and to learn how to sustain them. Along the way, there will be great moments of triumph and ecstasy and other moments of trial and heartache. This book is no quick fix and it doesn’t contain all the answers. It is simply a tool to help you reconnect with your deep desire to be involved in great relationships.

Connecting with people in a powerful way is a skill that must be developed, nurtured, and practiced. Our primary relationship is the inner sanctum of our emotional lives. It is our first source of emotional support and our primary opportunity to develop and experience a deep level of intimacy. For most of us, our primary relationship will be the one chance we have in this lifetime to truly know a person, and in turn, to be deeply known by another human being.  

Too often we spend our days surrounded by trivia and superficial, constantly overloaded with information and quite literally, to deeply know a person becomes more and more of a miracle. Most of what we do every day we do simply to survive. Relationships are what drive us to survive!” 

I trust the above as taken from Matthew Kelly’s book “The Seven Levels of Intimacy” will stimulate and encourage you to read further as you strive to better transition in your relationships from merely surviving to expansively thriving. Perhaps the last sentence in the paragraph above would be enhanced if it were to read “Positive intimate relationships are what drive us to survive.” If so, perhaps we may consider the inverse. Negative intimate relationships when taken to the extreme, may cause people to withdraw from society, possibly to resurface later in tragic random shootings such as occurred to Dean Beachy and his son Steven January 24th in State College PA.

I simply ask, Am I my brother’s keeper? Am I an example and encouraging others to be? Am I keeping short accounts? God is love. Seriously now, how do we love without being in relationship?  Is love driving my relationships?

Blessings as YOU GO FORTH>>>>          Merlin

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It’s really quite simple…

It’s a moment’s picture I’d like to freeze in time. The sun is weakening as it is sliding lower in its southwest journey. In an hour it will be down but each day its journey lengthens. The sun brightened areas of fresh snow and the looming expanding shadows alternate as I gaze down from my office windows into the ravine below toward the creek. Certainly no sprigs of green anywhere in sight today but in sixty days, we can hope, and that will be just the beginning of the evidence of the annual renewal. And it has occurred spring after spring since creation with no help from anyone. So effortless, and seldom do I even take time to notice.

This has been a strange afternoon for me as I sat listening to Brian’s funeral and enjoying the nature outside my windows. Earlier after lunch, Loretta sent me a link to the funeral including the pics from the viewing. The wonders of technology. A few of the pics struck my heart strings from the startup days for Kingsway.  

Brian is a legend in his generation. Just like Brian, we all possess seeds of spiritual greatness in our genetic code. Brian from early on invested his seeds particularly well, first into his own spiritual foundation, and then into the lives of all those around him, and ultimately spilling over into projects that just kept multiplying fruit and influence. The preponderance of evidence is invigorating to all of us. None of us would claim Brian was specially endowed. Indeed, we are all uniquely gifted and depending on how we integrate our “gifting” in to our life choices and experiences, will have everything to do with the “fruits”our efforts produce here. Indeed, some fruits are more visible than others but that is not the point. Blooming where we are planted with the “gifting” we’ve been given, all done in worship to our Creator God and Savior, is the sum reality of our spiritual existence.  

Today Carl preached from I Peter 5:1-5 entitling his sermon “Shepherd the Flock” expounding on five points: Relationships, Roles, Responsibilities, Righteousness, and Rewards. I plan to address only the first three components and suggest we examine the additional scripture Carl took from Ephesians 4:12 as it addresses these first three “R’s” rather well. I suggest we read it from the Message for a different twist. “He handed out gifts of apostle, prophet, evangelist,and pastor-teacher to train Christ’s followers in skilled servant work, working within Christ’s body, the church, until we’re all moving rhythmically and easily with each other, efficient and graceful in response to God’s Son, fully mature adults, fully developed within and without, fully alive like Christ.”

 I highlighted “until we’re all moving rhythmically and easily with each other” because I am so attracted to the word “rhythmically” for what it implies; a seamless unity pervading the entire organization on all levels so all of its energies are laser focused for example, on “Living and Building the Kingdom of God.” The remainder of the verse reads “efficient and graceful in response to God’s Son, fully mature adults ….. fully alive like Christ.” Perhaps this is best accomplished as a result of purposefully investing our spiritual seeds of greatness under the direction of the Holy Spirit amidst the multitude our daily life choices and experiences.

Perhaps we need to contrast the above investment model over and against the typical daily default mode of our culture; rise, rush, tolerate work, “selfish crash time,” media time, sleep, and do it again tomorrow, and never mind all the relational stressors people are carrying around emotionally from prior poor relationships and financial losses! Gruesome indeed compared to grace and peace! Not that this is what we do, but perhaps we need to consider exactly what most people we meet every day are up against without the Hope of Christ. New Year’s Suggestions provide little success and neither do the self-help gurus.

Let’s recap quick. Nature performs flawlessly and will until the end of time. Man is flawed because of sin but the seeds of greatness are within his being as is his innate desire to worship, and the determining question is simply this: “Who or what will he worship?” That will ultimately determine his final destiny. His intellect and/or toys, or God? I maintain Brian understood this tension and he first chose God at nine years of age. Perhaps also, congregations that choose God over self, and worship Him in spirit and truth, will tend to be “moving rhythmically and easily with each other,” naturally, just like the arrival of spring each year, and our lives and congregations will exhibit an abundance of fruit and great joy! Certainly worth our consideration and prayer.       Blessings as You Go Forth>>>>

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The State of my (bones) Re-Union

I began the first draft of this document precisely 10:15 PM January 23, 2019 and was finished in three hours, but I’ve spent multiples of that since in tweaking it to properly reflect my heart’s desire to communicate relevant truth from my life experience as I see it, to you in an encouraging manner. You may have noticed the subheading “Retooled & Thriving” above. Please realize I say that as a goal in process for my life, to be attained, certainly not as a present accomplishment or a “done deal.”

And yes, the title is a play on the State of the Union Address event in WDC that is not expected to happen now on Tuesday the 29th.  But my accident did in fact occur 4 months 5 days ago … and my bones are very much enjoying their re-union, as indeed, am I.

I did walk out to my outdoor wood-stove yesterday for the first time and helped shovel a path to wheelbarrow wood from the pile to the stove. I was very careful. It felt so good to be at least a little bit useful outdoors again. Loretta leaves for 16 days in Honduras February 16 and is so worried I’ll damage my legs possibly preventing her trip. Certainly understandable!

Many of you are wondering just how I’m doing since I have not posted any updates. I saw both surgeons the day after Christmas and both were very pleased with the progress. The surgeon for the R leg wants to see me once more March 5th at which time he’ll likely release me. I have considerable stiffness in both ankles and irritating pain but nothing obnoxious. At least, when I sit down and put my feet up and get to either reading or writing, I’m not aware of it … much. However, Loretta tells me I have a very high threshold for pain but I must confess, I was never quite sure how she determined that. It’s not like she had me hooked up to monitors or meters while inflicting pain. She just informed me she learned that fact the hard way, by parenting both me and our youngest son Chris, through all our bone breaks because of our genetic bone disorder, osteogenesis imperfecta (OI). And who am I to dispute a mother’s instinct. Actually, Loretta informs me the pain tolerance is well documented medically; I guess God realized we OI people deserved a virtual reality “pain-break!”

Currently I’m on an antibiotic and ibuprofen that runs out Sunday. Last Thursday I went for an extended walk about our 10 acres checking out a few of the trees that had come down recently. I’d been getting better than a mile in each day prior and that day I clocked 1.4 miles. Early the next morning my left foot had a dark streak on the inside from the heel to the big toe and topside from the toes back several inches that was also dark and some swollen. Even the skin looked like an infection was imminently brewing.

I went to walk-in at 7:30 AM and they sent me the ER and took some X-rays that all came back fine. The day prior on my extended walk I had  remarkably experienced no pain whatsoever so I was totally surprised with the discoloration the next morning. At least the x-rays confirmed all my new metal was still properly placed; just in case since we the OI inflicted don’t feel pain “normally” and something might have gone terribly wrong. They wrote “Cellulitis” as being the diagnosis and prescribed a week of Keflex and Ibuprofen and to go home and keep my feet up. Five days later all looks great and I hope to soon be back walking on rough ground to loosen up my ankles … provided the weather cooperates; we do have more snow and cold weather in the forecast.

This whole fiasco has really aged me. I’ve preferred not to look in a full length mirror for some time but now the view is simply pathetic. I’ve been concentrating on the doctors instructions and certainly wanting to avoid any adverse situations, but now I need to start quizzing my therapists about how I can get my posture back, understanding though it was going south even prior the accident.

It’s most interesting how much my sense of my posture affects my positive mental image of myself. For example, several years ago before my posture went amiss, I could stand erect behind the podium at church shifting my weight from on my heels to the balls of my feet, scan the audience, speak my words and see by their eyes and facial expressions that I was connecting with their thought patterns. Now, without my internal sense of a sufficiently erect physical posture for what in my head is an attractive physical state, I so wonder how my verbal delivery and audience feedback monitoring will be impacted. Perhaps not as much as I might think, but I am quite removed yet from either skipping up or down those steps as I did a year or two ago.

I am really glad we are flying through January. Winters are increasingly more difficult for me, especially when I was not fully prepared as happened to us this year. Thankfully, the efforts of many friends made it much better but yet, it really took a toll on Loretta, and that needs to addressed, and we are now considering our options.

I’m reminded of Paul Stutzman’s Book One in the Wanderer series in chapter 62 when Johnny encountered Wandering Willie on a rock in the Pacific Ocean near L.A. and was immediately admonished to get rid of all that stuff on the front and back of his bicycle. “You’re too loaded down to contemplate. Most of what you carry with you is baggage, young man. Unburden yourself if you really want to see life.”

In that same vein, I also just finished today a book by Richard Rohr titled “Falling Upward” given me by an acquaintance who after browsing my blog sensed I was in need of Father Rohr’s Contemplation’s. What is stranger, less than a month prior the book’s arrival, a close friend of years ago and now  a most enjoyable acquaintance, emailed me the link to this Franciscan Rohr’s Center for Action and Contemplation, that I now receive each Saturday reviewing the weeks daily highlights. The book certainly stretched my “spiritual reading comfort zone” and judging from my first pass through and the names he drops and quotes from throughout the book, I have much to digest and contemplate before I begin the next trip through; not sure of any action yet either.

But it did affirm one sidebar step into action, and that is I’m way overdue in simplifying my life on so many fronts. My immediate future dictates I concentrate with a laser focus on what is important to my life’s passion for my next decade. Before I can fully engage selflessly and passionately though, I have two  barns (1800 sq. ft.  each) that need to be cleaned out of their trivial collectibles from our three sons, past businesses, inheritances, etc., so someday when we do downsize, we can be ready to move quick, if need be.

The above describes the physical clutter needing attention ASAP. However, much more significant than the barn trivia, is the contemplative mode (I do like that word “contemplative” that Johnny first introduced to Wandering Willie) I’ve undertaken the past 125 days preparing for the next decade of my life. Perhaps that’s why I’m drawn to Johnny in the Wanderer. So far in the book, as a lad he has struggled whether he would remain Amish, then he met Annie, a rebellious promiscuous Amish girl from Indiana, who had found Jesus the year prior to coming to Ohio to teach school, then he found Jesus, joined the church, married Annie, and in six months, she was taken from him to her heavenly home overnight.  Six months later he left his home in Ohio, got on a bus headed for L.A. to ride his bike across the southern states to Florida  “to contemplate life,” his answer in response to Wandering Willie’s question “what are you running from?”

Perhaps that is sort of where I am right now. Johnny had strong roots in Ohio and his whole life ahead of him. We have roots here too, but we could be transplanted if we were convinced that was the plan, and whereas Johnny has a lifetime, Loretta and I are actually running out of time! Truthfully, my biggest fear, much more than a geographical move, is that as a very recently recovering workaholic, I may again become consumed by whatever work or hobbies I choose for the next decade. And I personally know that many well intended Christ followers are self affirmed workaholics who have inflicted much pain and damage in their Kingdom assignments as I have in the past; certainly not being God’s plan but the continued result of man’s selfishness.

So for me after 125 days of absolute freedom to pursue God’s will, to return to that bondage would be most vexing. During this free time, I do believe God has revealed to me my heart’s desire; and that is to simply be what I’ll call a faith facilitator, or a spiritual life coach of sorts, and those are the only words I can really share with you just now. Except I want to do it more as a retirement hobby, so we can travel, visit family and friends, as well as read and write, and so Loretta and I can just savor our remaining time together. Now indeed is the time, or never!

I am reminded of a statement by Bill Plotkin, a wise guide according to Richard Rohr, who said many of us learn to do our “survival dance,” in life very well; however, too many of us never transition to our “sacred dance.” Falling Upward indicates this transition among cognizant Christians may occur as early as in ones mid-thirties, or perhaps never; but usually in ones fifties or sixties; I’m assuming as people normally transition into their pre-retirement years.

Actually, in my rear view mirror now, I believe I’ve been pursued to begin my “sacred dance” even before I lost my first wife, at twenty-two years of age. And here 47 years later, I’m still being called to begin my “sacred dance” Simply amazing that out loving God is so relentless in his pursuits. In the past 30 months, I’ve been strongly summoned, once by health and twice by major trauma with life spared, to transition to my “sacred dance.”  So then, you can understand, why I am totally serious about transitioning with integrity into my “sacred dance” phase of my Going Until I Am Gone, a good read for those of us long over due to begin our transitioning away from our “survival dance.” 

I would be remiss by not saying I really do believe the “survival dance” is best discarded for the “sacred dance” while we are in our twenties or even earlier! Why waste all our prime years merely surviving when Jesus came that we may have an abundant and Holy Spirit empowered life when “called” and enjoy the “sacred dance” while raising our children and building our life’s infrastructure? Compare that earlier to waiting until much later when either an “updating”or a “remodel”, perhaps even a “start from scratch,” is needed, to transition to the “sacred dance,” perhaps then with your “grandchildren” and too likely as happens to the best of us, with the use of a walker, false teeth, hearing aides, pills, pains, etc.? I think the term used earlier historically for this transitioning, revolved around “conversion” but that word, like “sin,” has virtually disappeared in this culture.

Although merely my perspective, what if it is actually our preferred Creator’s “imprinted timing” for our sacred dance activation to begin sooner rather than later?  My reading of the New Testament reminds me of passages such as I Timothy 4:7-13 and all of II Corinthians 6, especially verse 2. Some may suggest I just need more time to contemplate! If it is in the scripture, yes indeed!

I now know what I really need to do today … and that is to re-read Harold S Bender’s forty-four page booklet titled simply“The Anabaptist Vision” to review the scriptural foundation of my Anabaptist roots, as I do every several months to remind me of my moorings as I encounter the overpowering influence of our media driven culture, perhaps at times, even from within the church. This booklet script was actually his presidential address before the American Society of Church History in NYC in 1943. It is available on both Amazon and Kindle.

Perhaps no decision is indeed a decision, when transitioning at whatever age (or maturity) you are! That is just the way God wired us. And JOY does  actually evaporate spiritual boredom! And HOPE does create JOY. Whence HOPE? Your challenge! merlin.erb@gmail.com if you got questions.

Blessings as YOU GO Forth>>>>  Merlin

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Embrace The Mystery

“A tree with strong roots can weather any storm. If you have not done so already, the day to start growing those roots is today. Gratitude, respect, and discipline are three powerful ways to ground and nurture your relationships. But keep in mind also, that trees sway in the wind. They are not rigid. Even the largest and strongest trees sway when the wind blows. Allow for uncertainty; you can be sure it will come. Find the lesson in the unexpected; it has come to help you in your quest to become-the-best-version-of-yourself. Try to enjoy mystery; it will keep you young.  

The present culture despises uncertainty, and so we waste endless amounts of time and energy trying to create the illusion of security and attempting to control the uncontrollable. We curse the unexpected because it interferes with our plans, even though it often carries with it the challenge we need at that moment to change and grow into a-better-version-of-ourselves. In the same way, our culture has no time for mystery. If we cannot solve or prove it, then we ignore it or discredit it.

“Life is not a problem to be solved, it is a mystery to be lived,” wrote Kierkegaard. Your spouse is not a problem to be solved, your children are not problems to be solved, your boyfriend or girlfriend, your partner or fiance is not a problem to be solved. They are mysteries to be accepted, encouraged, experienced, and enjoyed. 

Relationships are not to be understood and fixed and solved; they too, are mysteries to be enjoyed. 

The best participants in the mystery we call relationship seem to be people who don’t need to understand everything, the ones who aren’t out to prove anything, those humble enough to accept when they are wrong and hold their tongues when they are right, the people who don’t have an agenda, who aren’t in a hurry, and who don’t need the credit when things go right and don’t pass the blame when things go wrong.

Those are the rare souls who seem to be able to hold their arms wide open and embrace fully the mystery of loving and the joy of being loved.” 

So roots, storms, uncertainties, and mysteries are to be enjoyed? Really now? The above was taken from page 67 in Matthew Kelly’s book “The Seven Levels of Intimacy: The Art of Loving and the Joy of Being Loved.” With God’s empowerment, may we each someday be one those able to hold our arms wide open and embrace fully the mystery of loving and the joy of being loved. Sweet indeed!!

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“Do You Know Something I Don’t Know?”

David Anderson lived in Boston with his wife, Sarah, and their three children, Rachel, Shannon and Jonah. He was a very successful businessman, and one of the rewards of his success was their their summer home on Martha’s Vineyard. Sarah and the kids spent the whole summer there, while David usually spent part of each weekend and always came for the first two weeks of July.

One summer a few years ago, he was driving out to the beach at the beginning of July when he made a promise to himself. For two weeks, he was going to be a loving and attentive husband and father. He would make himself totally available. He would turn off his cellphone, resist the temptation to be constantly checking his email, and make himself completely available to his family and a genuine experience of vacation.

You see David worked too much. He knew it. Everyone around him knew it. When you love your work, that’s one of the dangers. When you rely on your work too much for your identity, that’s one of the pitfalls. From time to time, David felt guilty about how much he worked, but he managed to brush the guilt aside by making the excuse that it was necessary. Sometimes he overcame his feeling of guilt by calling to mind the many privileges and opportunities that his wife and children were able to enjoy because he worked so hard.

Did the rationalizations succeed? Only temporarily. But this vacation was going to be different. David was going to be attentive and available. 

The idea had come  to him in his car, as he listened to a CD that a friend had given him. People were always giving him books to read and tapes to listen to, and the gifts always made him cringe, because he knew the giver would ask him his opinion the next time their paths crossed. But for some reason, he had popped this CD in as he drove out of his garage this day. 

The speaker was discussing dynamic relationships; feeling a bit uncomfortable, David was about to turn it off when something that man said struck him: “Love is a choice. Love is an act of the will,” he said. “You can choose to love.”

At that moment, David admitted to himself that as a husband he had been selfish, and that the love between him and Sarah had been dulled by his selfishness, by his insensitivity, by his unavailability. This self-centeredness manifested itself mostly in small ways. He insisted they watch whatever he wanted to watch on television. He made Sarah feel small for always being late. He constantly put his work before the needs of his family. He would take newspapers to work knowing that Sarah wanted to read them, and that he would be unlikely to have time to do so during his busy day. He was constantly saying “Some other time” to his children, “Not now” to his wife. But for two weeks all that was going to change. And so it did. 

From the moment David walked through the door, kissed his wife, and said, “You look really good in that new sweater. That’s a great color for you,” Sarah was taken back, surprised, even a little perplexed. Her first reaction was to wonder if he was having a dig at her for buying more clothes, but when he smiled and asked her, “What have I missed?” the genuine compliment settled in and felt wonderful. 

After battling the traffic to get to the vacation house, David just wanted to sit down and relax, but Sarah suggested a walk on the beach. David began to refuse, but then thought better of it: “Sarah has been out here all week alone with the children, and now she just wants to be alone.” So they walked the beach hand in hand, while the children flew their kites. 

The next morning, Sarah almost fell out of bed when he brought her breakfast in bed. Admittedly, David had woken their daughter Rachel to help him pull that one off, but it was extraordinary nonetheless. Over breakfast he told her about a dream he had that night, and then he asked, “What would you like to do today?”

Sarah couldn’t remember the last time he had asked her that. 

“Don’t you have work to do?” she countered.

“No,” he said. “We can do anything you want.”

Over and over throughout the day David said to himself, “Love is a choice. Love is a choice. Love is a choice.”

And so it went. For two weeks, they relaxed, they were happy. It was a dream vacation. Two weeks without the constant harassment of cell phones and e-mail; they visited the maritime museum, even though David hates museums; he allowed the kids to eat ice cream whenever they wanted; he even managed to hold his tongue when Sarah’s getting ready made them late for his best friend’s birthday dinner.

“Did Dad win something?” their daughter Shannon asked her mother one day. Sarah laughed, but she had been wondering herself what had overcome her husband.

After lunch on the last day, David excused himself and walked the beach alone. He thought of the promise he had made to himself driving out two weeks earlier, and now made a new promise to keep choosing love when they got home.

That night as he and Sarah were preparing for bed, Sarah suddenly stopped and looked at David with the saddest expression he’d ever seen come across her face. David panicked. “What’s the matter/”

“Do you know something I don’t know?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

  Sarah said, “The check-up I had a few weeks ago … Did Dr. Lewis tell you something about me? Dave, you’ve been so good to me. Am I dying?” 

David’s eyes filled with tears. Wrapping her in his arms and holding her tight, he said, “No honey. You’re not dying. I”m just starting to live!”

I hope you were positively challenged as I was when reading the above story that opens Matthew Kelley’s phenomenal book titled “The Seven Levels of Intimacy: The Art of Loving and The Joy Of Being Loved.” This story  reminds me of a statement by Vaclav Havel, the Czech dramatist and human rights activist who later became his country’s president, who wrote, “I believe that nothing disappears forever, and less so deeds, which is why I believe that it makes sense to try to do something in life, something more than that which will bring one obvious returns.”

Relationships, whether founded on truth or not, when experiencing restoration and actually begin thriving, reflects my passion and are gifts of endless returns to all of us in the ripples. This book will guide you to invest your relational energy well!  Blessings …Merlin

Please click the link below to read the first chapter or to purchase.

https://dynamiccatholic.com/the-seven-levels-intimacy-paperback

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Don’t Just Hope…

The following story is taken verbatim from Matthew Kelly’s book “The Seven Levels of Intimacy: The Art of Loving And The Joy Of Being Loved“, a book best introduced and discussed in every home around the supper table before the kids leave home … with their own copy, of course!

Peter was just an ordinary guy. He liked to watch football, drink beer, and hang out with his friends. From time to time, when he was alone, he would get a little introspective and start to think about where his life was going. It was then he thought about relationships; more specifically he would wonder whether he would ever have a truly great relationship. He always concluded that he hoped one day he would. 

One thing Peter loved to do was people-watch, and if you like people-watching there is perhaps no better place than an airport. 

A few years ago, he was standing at the airport in San Francisco waiting for a friend when he had one of those life-changing experiences you sometimes hear people talk about …. the kind that sneaks up on you when you least expect it. 

Straining to locate a friend among the deplaning passengers, Peter noticed a man walking toward him carrying two small bags. The man stopped right next to Peter to greet his waiting family.

First he motioned to his younger son, who was perhaps five or six years old. Putting down his bags, he took the boy in his arms and gave him a long loving hug, and as they drew apart long enough to look at each other, Peter overheard the father say, “It’s so good to see you, son. I’ve missed you so much.”

The boy smiled shyly, averted his eyes and replied, “Me too, Dad.”

Standing up, the man gazed into his elder son’s eyes (the boy was maybe nine or ten years old) and, cupping the boy’s chin with his hand, he said, “You’re already such a fine young man, Nathan, I love you very much.” With that he took the boy in his arms and gave him a long tender hug. 

While all this was happening a baby girl was eyeing her father and squirming excitedly in her mother’s arms, never once taking her eyes off the wonderful sight of her returning father. The man turned to the child now and said, “Hi baby girl!” as he gently took her from her mother’s arms, kissed her face all over, and pulled her to his chest, rocking her from side to side. The little girl instantly laid her head on his shoulder, motionless in pure contentment. 

After several long moments he handed his daughter to his elder son, declared , “I’ve saved the best for last,” and proceeded to kiss and embrace his wife. After a long moment, they drew back to look at each other. He stared into her eyes for several seconds and then silently mouthed, “I love you so much.”

 As they stood staring into each other’s eyes, holding hands with both hands and covered in smiles, they reminded Peter of newlyweds, though he knew from the ages of their children that couldn’t possibly be.

All of a sudden, Peter became awkwardly aware of how engrossed he had become in this wonderful display of unconditional love, no more than an arm’s length from him. In that moment he began to feel uncomfortable, as if he had intruded on something sacred. But he was amazed to hear his own voice asking, “How long have you been married?”

“Been together fourteen years, married for twelve,” the stranger replied without breaking his gaze from his lovely wife’s face.

“How long you been away?” Peter asked. 

The stranger turned to him now, smiled, and said, “Two whole days.

“Peter was stunned. He had guessed, from the intensity of their greeting, that the man had been gone for weeks, if not months. Two whole days, he thought to himself, and smiled. Now embarrassed, hoping to end his intrusion with some semblance of grace, Peter offhandedly said, “I hope my marriage is that passionate after twelve years!”

Suddenly the man stopped smiling. He looked straight into Peter’s eyes with a forcefulness that burned straight through to his soul, and he said something that left Peter a different man:

Don’t just hope, friend, decide!”

And with that, the stranger picked up his bags and he and his family strolled off.

Peter was still watching them disappear into the distance when his friend came up to him and said, “Whatcha looking at?”

Peter smiled and, without hesitating, replied, “My future.”

Great relationships don’t just come to those who hope for them. Hope is worthless unless coupled with real effort. Great relationships belong to those who decide to put in the effort and make them a priority. Don’t just hope … decide!  

Please click below to read the first chapter!

https://dynamiccatholic.com/the-seven-levels-of-intimacy-paperback

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Candy Boycott and Gas Tanks

Today is Friday Nov 9, 2018 and I awoke to a melting snow at 7:30 am being done away with by a light rain. It was unusual for me to sleep that late but I had been writing thank you notes until nearly 2 am. That came about because I always checked our PO Box on Thursdays to get my weekly reimbursement for my efforts the week prior as an independent contractor, but since the accident, the checks stopped and we had no further interest in checking the box weekly.

So yesterday, we went to the post office and mailed my Sis two books,  One was “Stuck in the Weeds” by Paul Stutzman, who I have yet to meet, though I greatly admire his first three books. The other book entitled, “Sometimes I Sing” was the work of our first cousin, Mary Hershberger, who has resided in Syracuse NY where she retired as a public high school English teacher, at least sort of. But as the book attests, she early on with three young children, found herself divorced and in dire need of additional income. Being quite resourceful, she bought her first fixer upper home with a loan from her folks, who were also retired public school teachers, and since, has rehabbed nearly three dozen homes, only slowing down now in the past five years. Much should be said for Mary’s spunk, and fact is, she really did acquire some outstanding real estate over the years, and now approaching 80 years young, is finally letting go of several of her choice rentals near the Syracuse university campus.

So indeed, after a month the Dalton PO Box was crammed;  election flyers, three bills now past due and six get well cards, four with both street and PO Box, but two with only PO. My deduction is postal workers are lazy like the rest of us; they push everything they can thru the PO Boxes so they need not handle it again into our street mailbox, if given the choice at least!

And for some reason, after my accident September 18, I decided early on to acknowledge each get well card. A decision a bit strange perhaps, but I compare it to the decision I just made one day out of the blue as a teenager to stop eating candy. It wasn’t like I had agonized over this possibility for months, or that I had a health condition forcing the issue. Truth be told, it was likely instigated by my subconscious  economical inclinations to save loose pocket change back when  one quarter was worth more than a dollar bill today.

You might chuckle but to give this snap candy decision some credibility, you need to know that during  my high school senior year I also quit eating lunch in the cafeteria. Nothing against the food, I certainly was not protesting the environment or chemical agriculture, for the first Earth Day in 1970 was still 4 years in the making, but seriously, I really think it was all about the economics of my virtually non-existent cash flow, sub-consciously of course. Let me paint the picture. In March of my Junior year, I had purchased a motorcycle and weather permitting, or not, I frequently drove it to school but it only got 40 miles per gallon if that. Barely two round trips on a gallon of gas, and for sure not, if we raced, “dragged” main, etc.  Gas was less than 30 cents a gallon then and I soon figured out I’d rather forgo lunch and keep the two bucks mother gave me for lunch every other Monday morning.

Truth is, skipping lunch was many times more difficult than merely abstaining from candy. But really, writing about this now makes it all sound so bizarre! Why didn’t I make some really worthwhile decisions back then instead, such as perhaps safeguarding my morals or even more basic, consider whose path am I following anyway?  Rather, I focused on such trivial decisions involving only candy and pocket change. Oh I understand the argument could be made now fifty years later, that those resolutions served me well, but seriously, in the scheme of values affecting eternity, I really missed out!

This all reminds me of two teenagers years ago, now middle aged, well known and respected in many circles, at a time when the US interstate highway system was yet under construction. Their brush with disaster is revealed in a book I highly recommend titled “The Principle of the Path”, beginning so innocently with an auto chase in chapter one continually building our understanding  throughout the book, that “direction, not intention, determines our destination” until in the final chapter we experience the crescendo of free choice that God judiciously allows each of us, right up until our final breath. Loretta while visiting her mother’s church last summer heard her pastor describe this Path book as his “go-to” book for Jesus seekers. Within hours “Path” was on my phone, read, and processing in my subconscious for 7 months until I thought of it while writing about this skipping lunch and boycotting candy routine.

But now back to my story. In true derelict fashion, I went into Woolworths and purchased a bag of snack size Snickers or Milky Ways and indulged most of the bag that afternoon while sitting in the car waiting on Mom who was shopping while I was listening to the AM radio play such songs as Downtown, This Diamond Ring, Mrs. Brown, You’ve Got a Lovely Daughter, Help Me Rhonda, etc. We didn’t even have a FM car radio then. I do recall you could special order a turntable to play records in a 1961 Desoto because a bachelor neighbor had one and he lived 2 miles off the highway on a MN township road with very little gravel, mostly clay and rutty! Maybe he only played it while parking! You youngsters have no idea how technology has changed everything!

So at home later with my candy bag nearly three quarters empty, I chucked the remaining bars into my chore jacket pockets and went off to feed the animals and milk the cows. And that was it. A done deal. I do remember at a valentines party a few months later, I accidentally put some of those tiny peppermint heart candies in my mouth and promptly flushed them down the commode. Decades later, I would enjoy a candy bar (Loretta loves Snickers and sometimes I’d buy her one and she’d share) but never again did candy hold much appeal to me.

Actually now, ice cream is my drug of choice and I could write much about my struggles with ice cream, from a child years before the candy swear off right up to this week on Tuesday when I saw my SmithFoods retail dock was simply removed to make room for greater dock capacity at the expense of assuredly, my future retirement happiness. After all, once again, it is all about the money! I can no longer purchase my favorite flavors for six quarters a box and I too will have to visit Buehlers and pay retail which I have not done for nearly two decades; imagine paying $4 a box!  

So back to the thank you notes. In similar spur of the moment fashion, I made this rather strange decision to acknowledge everyone who sent me a get well card. Last night after watching a movie with Loretta, I returned to writing more, two down, four to go. Now understand, my average word count on these cards, is likely at least 100 words, sometimes even like 200-300. I really do enjoy engaging with these get well card writers, and that comes as no big surprise to you, since most of you already know I seldom ever meet a stranger.

Actually, I should do a word count on the 50-60 cards sent me but I bet twenty words of encouragement would be close to average! I know all these people, except the three preschoolers whom are Susan Murray’s granddaughters. And many of them have more health challenges than I have now. I mean serious health concerns, not just if they’ll ever have a good jogging gait again, never mind any marathons. And so, if I’m going to invest in a stamp, I’m going to make this encounter hopefully positively memorable in their minds and worth their time. After all, they were willing to step out of their boat and send me a card. And so I try to comfort them, reminding them of happier past events, as well as encourage them to envision their future joys by looking forward. Seriously, you all really do need to read this “Path” book I mentioned earlier. It could be key to your survival actually, and greatly enhance you just flourishing for now .

And so I wrote notes last night; way past my normal bedtime until 2AM nearly! Totally disrupted my normal wind down activities and days reflections, not to mention my rebooting and start up this morning. But I really do think God understands our need at times go with the flow. One note actually got way out of hand in length! Since I mailed it I can’t count the words, but likely 800 or more. Lately, I have found, life indeed is a journey of “in the moment adventures!” And sometimes, it’s just good to communicate.. when it’s on your heart, when it flows, because too often the stream is dry or the opportunity forced if you postpone your “obedient action.”

I’ve certainly enjoyed sharing and traveling with you this Christmas Eve 2018 as I finish up what I started weeks ago. Perhaps we’ll pick up one of the two books I sent my Sis next time and see where that leads. Merry Christmas to each of you and blessings as you GO FORTH>>>> soon into 2019. I suggest you go to Amazon and check out Andy Stanley’s The Principal of the Path I mentioned above. The introduction and at least through chapter one and the car chase are free. Remember, it’s direction, not intention, that determines destination. Might just be a good first read for you in 2019! And then you can bless someone else. And that “obedient action” may even enhance your “path” to greater fulfillment! Commit to  investing well in 2019!

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Greetings in this “dawning” of another Christmas Season

I’m drawing here from one of my favorite authors, Tim Keller, with his accent on the word “dawning” in his shorter than usual book, “Hidden Christmas: The Surprising Truth Behind the Birth Of Christ.” I was first encouraged to read Keller by our youth pastor years ago while we served as MYF sponsors with him. Thank you Thomas, because Keller’s books revealed the astonishing basic scriptural truths to me undoubtedly providing the spiritual impetus for what I refer to now in my blog as “Retooled and Thriving.”

Hidden Christmas is a book I now reread each fall following Thanksgiving in preparation for Christmas. Truthfully, I never was a Christmas addict, though as I am quite steeped in church culture, it was a season pretty much like all the others that came and went over the years devoid of any personal passion from me. That was until I read Hidden Christmas a few years ago (I think this is now my third such annual  encounter) after God started literally purging my “temple” as Josiah did the temple in the OT while re-discovering the scrolls  and re-instituting temple worship. The process that swept thru my mind a few years ago may best be described as the reformatting of my hard drive, certainly not merely a re-booting.

Starting with the Isaiah 9:2, 5-7 passage, I quote “the people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned….”  The New King James uses the word “shined” but I much prefer “dawned”, likely because very few people, except for truckers and dairymen, have witnessed more sunrises than I. Fact is for me, “dawned” connotes such a rich understanding of progressing from complete darkness to a full brilliancy of color in the sky and the freshness of a new day, from the glistening dew on the lush vibrant fields and forests to the swooping birds in flight. “Shining” does have potential too, but I find it more static, for “shined” can be either switched off or on. Whereas for me, “dawned” evidences a daily renewal of the redemptive process, not that the incarnation is a repeated event; let alone daily. Let it be known there was only one such event, ever! But yet, with us mere mortals, though we may need to shine as admonished in the Sunday School chorus from “hide it under a bushel, NO! I’m going to let it shine”, I prefer to focus on the incarnation event in that as “a light has dawned.”

And I do believe, “dawned” is the path many of us actually do discover Christ. My generation’s “accepting” Christ was more a “shined” event; we were “exposed” in a situation, whether camp, Bible School, youth retreat, crusade, revival, etc., where we suddenly found ourselves in the “time to make a  decision spotlight”, whether it was orchestrated or not, perhaps by “pure”coincidence, or as we reflect later, a “mass movement”, it was now time and the thing to do. And so we did.

See why I much prefer “dawned”. Keller explains it as “it doesn’t say from the world a light has sprung, but upon the world a light has dawned. It has come from the outside. There is light outside of this world and Jesus has brought that light to save us; indeed, he is the Light (John 8:12).”  And actually, now as we find ourselves in our mature years, we realize that we were actually “dawned” upon a number of times, speaking now solely of our spiritual growth cycles, throughout our life to date. Keller wisely ignores all this trivia, but goes dead center for the Christian religiosity cultural jugular artery or vein. He clearly makes the point, that unless you have first come to fully understand and appreciate the significance of the “incarnation”, you’ll not understand let alone appreciate, the fullness of God’s revelation of salvation afforded us by his resurrection, nor have any inkling of empowerment by the Holy Spirit.

So, what are we to do, with this fairy tale magical once upon a time event, that you and I have encountered annually since memory serves? First, perhaps we begin by believing the report about what has happened in  history, that God really did become a human being, and thank Him for his reality in our lives.  Secondly, in appreciation, simply ask Him for more faith in order to accomplish greater “works”, works best interpreted as “obedient actions” as we read in James 2:18.

Quoting Keller near the end of the first chapter, he writes “There has never been a gift offered that makes you swallow your pride to the depths that the gift of Jesus Christ requires us to do. Christmas means that we are so lost, so unable to save ourselves, that nothing less than the death of the Son of God himself could save us. That means you are not somebody who can pull yourself together and live a moral and good life. When Jesus died on the cross, darkness fell over the land. The Light of the world descended into darkness in order to bring us into God’s beautiful light (I Peter 2:9) The promises of Christmas cannot be discerned unless you first admit you can’t save yourself, or even know yourself, without the light of his unmerited grace in your life. This is the foundational truth from which we can proceed to learn the hidden truths of Christmas!”

Such hidden truths include “The Gospel is Good News, Not Good Advice”, “The Gospel Story Changes How We Read Other Stories,” “The Gospel Turns The Worlds Values Upside Down,” “God May Take His Time, But He Keeps His Word,” and “The Gospel Is Ultimate Rest.”

May we share the Gospel “dawning” as the truth has “dawned” upon us, whenever, wherever, however, in our lives thus far. Join the growing throng of Keller Annual Advent Readers (KAAR) seeking to be reminded of the Incarnation, its truths, and our subsequent obedient actions.

Merry Christmas!

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Edmond Fitzgerald

The Wreck of the Edmond Fitzgerald recalls the Nov 10, 1975 disaster on Lake Superior as popularized by Gordon Lightfoot and others. This has been a favorite song of mine and it has been on my mind of late, especially since we were recently in Duluth and so enjoyed Lake Superior and the harbor. 

My life began its chaotic November 2016 tailspin innocently enough amidst one of the most beautiful autumns ever in Wayne County OH, far away from any threatening waves. It was a week before the anniversary date of the Lake Superior tragedy on Thursday Nov 3rd, around 6 am that I was collecting milk samples in a tie stall barn walking in between these 45“gentle” cows,  much as I did as a teen back in MN with my father. In fact, that was why I ever even agreed to visit this herd every month, as I just enjoy reliving my childhood days from the early sixties.

 And as it also happened back home as a kid, that day for whatever reason, cow #25 got spooked.  We did make eye contact ever so quickly and having been around cattle, I recognize sheer terror in their eyes as she did no doubt in mine, and the battle commenced. I was looking for “wings to fly away with” rather than a mere “fox hole” but my only apparent option was moving forward  maybe another 10-12 inches in an attempt to escape her machine gun rear hoof .. but not before she solidly connected once on my right knee. In the ensuing seconds she repeatedly attempted to hit several more home runs and I was concentrating all my strength on mere survival. When she finally exhausted her “bullets” and the dust cleared (seemed like forever but was likely only 5-7 seconds) I was simply exuberant; I could stand on my right leg! Absolutely unbelievable! Actually, I learned later the knee indeed had been damaged, although no bones were broken, but we did not figure that out for another two weeks when I unexpectantly experienced the biggest drop ever in my life on concrete, resulting in yet another spinal compression fracture.

Historically, my last encounter with a heifer resulted in a leg cast way back in 1951 at the age of nearly three, I had crawled thru the steps over a fence to frolic with the calves and while in true cowboy pursuit, I got too close and one of them nailed my left leg and I enjoyed a hot MN summer in a cast… none of which I remember of course, except it was the summer Mom was pregnant with Verla.  And yes, even then, it seems I worked overtime at complicating other people’s already stressed out lives with my fiascoes!

Back to my current reality, and in my momentary exuberance while assessing the collateral damages, I suddenly realized the tip of my ring finger on my right hand was half tore off with at least a quarter inch gap between the top portion ( nail, bone, and some flesh) and the bottom larger portion, I presume, of just flesh. I did not feel much pain, being a bit in shock you know, but at least I was not nauseous which always signals a bone break, at least in my body. So extracting myself from the battle zone and walking in circles assessing the damages but mostly just praising God that I was still standing, never mind the goofy ring finger dripping blood all over the white limed floor. And  strange as it sounds, I was absolutely clueless as to what happened to that finger … and it still remains a mystery.

Many of you in Sugarcreek township area have visited this farm frequently if you purchased your cheese and meat at the E & B Bulk Food Store that started up in the ‘70’s on S Wenger. The store has moved twice and is now known as Shady Lawn on the corner of Zuercher and Hackett. Enough history!

So what do we do now? This excitement is not the usual morning occurrence and I am still doing a low grade rendition of hyperventilating while I keep repeating in low monotones between breaths, “oh my, oh my”. Finally focusing, I gave instructions to the Steiners to continue the testing, taking off my sample belt, provided some instructions, wishing them well, telling them I’d return to finish after the ER visit, and walked out to my Prius, my sanctuary away from home, sort of sliding into the seat nursing a very sore right leg into the space provided. Again thanking God for his mercy between breaths, I proceeded to drive the 12 minutes north on Wenger  Rd toward home.

Walking in the garage, Sir O Riley welcomed me warmly offering to lick my bloody finger and apply his healing salve! No, I did not offer him the option, but it has been known to work well in the “wild.”  It was then I realized the “oh my’s” and my weird breathing pattern had finally ceased and I was actually feeling rather well. So instead of unlocking the door and going into the house and waking up Loretta, I took off my coveralls, bade Riley farewell, climbed back into my Prius, and drove off to the ER to have this finger fixed. And that was all quite routine, at least until the stitching was to begin. Yes, we better have a tetanus booster too. I knew my last tetanus would have been done at Dunlap, now Aultman Orville, but they could not locate any such evidence, so considering the current dilemma of my flesh, I deemed a booster was likely advisable.

My ER Doc was fun, having grown up on  dairy farm near Sterling, though he seemed a trifle perplexed about how he was going to stitch this unique wound, not resembling a typical inner city knife slice and dice adventure. I told the Doc after showing him my left hand’s ring finger, whose third digit has been visibly absent from me since several days before first grade, that perhaps we should just now with this opportunity, match the fingers up and simplify this visit for both of us, with a quick slice of his knife to the bloody digit. Apparently that was not an option in this ER’s protocols, though I still think he secretly agreed with me, you know, with him being such a practical farm boy and likely thinking,“you know, this old guy is nearly 70, why not? It would save everyone much time and money this morning. And it really is going to be difficult to get that nail bed repaired properly with surgery later, so the fingernail grows out right!”

I also need to tell you earlier while waiting for the x rays, I had sufficient presence of mind, to pull out my phone and click off several really awesome bloody pictures in the event someone desires proof. Maybe someday when I learn how, I’ll include pics with the post! Concerned about my comfort, he did inject enough novacaine at three sites that I never took anything more for pain for 18 hours. Soon enough, he quickly installed seven stitches and neatly trimmed away the extra flesh, that just did not want to fit back in, which reminded me of my brother Dan’s budding mechanical abilities as a kid, when taking an alarm clock apart and ending up with extra parts after re-assembling, but never mind, it didn’t work either. The difference here hopefully, is that we are dealing with living tissue that does heal. Simply amazing how much healing I’ve witnessed in this body thus far in my life!

Now one of the negative sidebars on all this third digit repair was that even I, who is known to take too many chances, was thoroughly convinced that I had better “go on” an antibiotic this time. Realizing how damaging such prescriptions are even for a week to my intestinal flora and my continued general well-being, (google the Brain – Gut Connection for more info) I knew this time that this prescription was not an option and Loretta concurred later. So I basically quit taking all of my “daily additives”that Loretta has researched over the years to be beneficial for me … but when combined with an antibiotic,  the effect of the combination is unknown and we certainly did not want any complications. And we are happy to report that the finger did heal quite nicely having the stitches removed Nov 14th and now looks normal. But even before I had resumed Loretta’s “daily additives” for a week, another shoe dropped on Nov 16th as I alluded to above, making the heifer event seem like a Sunday School picnic. That event needs to be told too, but not just now.

I just listened to the song one more time. Purposeful Melancholy. Unique Harmonics. Gripping Experience. Ice-water Mansion? Does anyone know where the love of God goes, when the waves turn the minutes to hours? (stanza 5) At some point, perhaps you’ll catch the underlying theme to all these stories? Or not? 

Blessings to you on your adventure road!

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