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

Hilton Head Island: First at 40, Now at 70!

It is interesting to visit a favorite vacation spot after being absent for nearly 20 years. During the 90’s, we spent many of our summer vacations on the island. It seems numerous NE Ohio residents had invested in condos on the island whom in turn rented them to their friends and neighbors creating blocks of Ohio plates in the parking lots about the island. Such vacations were affordable, within 12 hours driving time of home, and greatly appreciated by the kids for the expansive beaches and decent waves, if for only one week each year.

Prior, we always drove straight thru. This time we did it in two days which elevated the trip a quantum leap for enjoyment, but also more expense for lodging and food…but on the positive side, it is an opportunity to experience a new community and its culture and food in route, particularly if you get creative in finding lodging and food away from the franchises, such as a bed and breakfast.

On the island, our twenty year absence visually revealed its growth. This time we visited for the first time the National Game Refuge, thanks to Teddy Roosevelt, the first of its kind, near Savannah GA, within sight of the new bridge and the shipping docks. We spotted 13 alligators on our drive thru today. One day we toured the Coastal Discovery Museum, a 68 acre portion of a plantation on the island, converted to an amazing collection of paintings and crafts from local artists, to elaborate walkways out over the lowlands demonstrating the habitat for the life cycles of crabs and oysters, and numerous displays detailing the islands various stages of its historical accounts since it was discovered.

I find it strange now to realize just how recently this island has become so developed for tourism. The first bridge was built in ’56 at a cost of 1.5 million which was replaced in ’82 by a 4 lane structure. I cannot recall any place in that I have personally witnessed such a change in the past 30 years (1989-2019) that really only began its tourist development 30 years prior (1959-1989). The airport opened in 1967.

So, I’m sitting here in the Disney complex in unit 1822 with the door open to the porch looking out over the salt water lagoon as the sun sets. We have three huge bedrooms; two up, one down, 4 baths. We are enjoying Loretta’s brother Larry(Debbie) generosity as they are Disney members, who invited Loretta’s oldest brother, Ken(Linda) and younger brother, Everette, and Loretta and I here for a week of renewal and relaxation. A year ago Loretta and I invited everyone to join us in Hawaii for 5 days but Ken and Linda were not able because of Ken’s recent surgery then. We have not yet decided what we’ll attempt next year.

And just as the local economy and geography of the island has undergone startling transformations, so have we as a family; not so much as an expansion of numbers necessarily, as many of you are so accustomed, as much as it is that our physical appearances have changed. Aging is not kind but we are all blessed with good health currently, though for a few of us, our mobility is currently challenged.

As you can imagine, I utilized my spare time to read. I learned on the way down that I can read very comfortably in the back seat of the car on my tablet so I finished reading and underlining both John Eldredge’s book, All Things New, as well as Imagine Heaven. Two recent acquisitions from Matthew Kelly,  A Call to Joy, and Resisting Happiness, were quickly devoured and between the four, I experienced a delightful smorgasbord indeed that I will savor for weeks to come. Truth told, I don’t think I’ve ever  witnessed such an understanding of truth from a 24 year old author as Matthew was when he penned A Call To Joy: Living In The Presence Of God.

Several quotes from it that I’ll pass along to you are:

“Only two things exist in eternity: Joy and misery”

“You will not be any happier today than you were yesterday, unless you do something different, at least in a different manner, with a different state of mind or heart.”

“Your fears are a passport to a new state, to a higher level, to a greater joy.”

“What you become is more important than what you do.”

Kelly  repeatedly drives home the importance of “loving our fellowman into the kingdom”as “they”  are the only investment we can send ahead into eternity as equity in exchange for our heavenly rewards in the second judgement, a  point also under girding the message from Imagine Heaven in the last two paragraphs of Chapter One.

“In the western world, we live for retirement. We have a vision, a mental picture in our imaginations, of what retirement will be like — home, vacations, hobbies, and time to spend with the people we love. Because we can picture it, we will work for it, save for it, sacrifice for it. There is nothing wrong with retirement, but it lasts only a few decades at best.

What if we became a people who have vision for the ultimate Life to come? What if it’s true that this life is merely a tiny taste on the tip of our tongues of the feast of Life yet to come?What if Heaven is going to be better than your wildest dreams? And what if how you live really does matter for the Life to come? That would change how we live, work, love, sacrifice – wouldn’t it? That’s what I pray will happen for you as you get a clearer picture of Heaven…”  

Consider Kelly’s second most recent book, Resisting Happiness: A true story about why we sabotage ourselves, feel overwhelmed, set aside our dreams, and lack the courage to simply be ourselves…. And how to start choosing happiness again! This little 37 chapter 186 page easy read is a spiritual powerhouse in helping us overcome resistance which is summed up well at the end of the first chapter,“The first lesson is that you never defeat resistance once and for all! It is a daily battle.” The remaining 36 chapters each have a Key Point and an Action Step to insure your daily victories. Not to even mention his quotes! Such as near the end of chapter 25, “Any type of inner slavery limits our ability to love ourselves, to love God, and to love others.” Well said indeed. Thanks for reading.

Blessings as YOU GO FORTH LOVING GOD & LOVING OTHERS>>>>   Merlin

Convalescence and Family Reunions

Greetings everyone!

I am happy to report that Dr Ficco, the surgeon who artfully reassembled my September 18 “impact exploded” R ankle, released me from his care on March 5th very pleased with its progress. Initially, the x-rays indicated it may a difficult fix, and I’m grateful for all the prayers, and quite likely, some divine intervention that occurred.

Loretta indeed performed magnificently on the home front revamping the micro lab as two days prior the accident, the old computer had crashed necessitating both  a new computer and software program. We also at that time switched to using Petri Film rather than agar and petri dishes, and Loretta accomplished that transition all on her own with me coaching from Aultman via FaceTime on our phones.

But then, after 21 days in the hospital and rehab, I went home and life really got complicated for Loretta. No longer could she just visit me and go home, but now she had to endure me in close proximity while I convalesced at home literally waiting on me hand and foot, never complaining but very near total exhaustion. Life did improve January 1 when I was able to stand and walk again, and three weeks after that, I was off ibuprofen.

I have heard from other couples that when the husband retires and suddenly is home 24-7, that major relational eruptions can occur, so just imagine the added stress by injecting into that equation, a helpless but quite demanding convalescing house bound husband for four months! We are happy to report we did actually survive, and now indeed are anticipating thriving together, particularly, if I can just quit inflicting new injuries. Needless to say, she and her cousin Beth, will soon embark on numerous trips during the next six months, some that were even on the books prior, as she so well deserves for her stint of “Home Alone with …… husband.” And yes, of course I’d like to replace Beth, but I am still working part time, and quite frankly, am very glad to have the work and able to do it, while I anticipate my next adventure.

Also, I’m happy to report during her recent 16 days in Honduras, with CAMO, Central America Medical Outreach, my ankles really began to improve. Prior I was quite distraught in that it hurt so much to walk. I tried to push hard during therapy (finished March 1) by walking in the woods and fields to loosen up the ankles to no avail. And then on a nice day two weeks ago, I decided rather than just walking, I’d start cleaning up all the branches and twigs in the areas I mow, so I got out my rake and went to work, thinking how this raking was indeed a new experience for me but likely good for the upper body muscles as well as for the ankles. Normally, since Loretta got me a Stihl Back Pak when I turned 50, the rake was retired and all the leaves, sticks, etc.,  were either moved by air or chopped up by the mower. And several days later, I noticed walking was much easier. On our recent two snow days when I used the snowblower, I averaged over 10 miles according to my tracker, normally 5-7 miles. So I am much encouraged in the past week and do believe now that by this September I will experience a complete recovery.

I am so very thankful for the health I now enjoy and can better identify with the persons who experience Near Death Experiences (NDE’s).  Frequently they express this ever present thankful understanding of being spared and for what purpose? Such thoughts just occur as we view our life to-date in our rear view mirror, but of greater significance, is how do we live out the remainder of our lives, now better realizing the fragility of life, its experiences and relationships on all levels.

As you’ve heard me say before, Loretta several weeks ago again, said “you need to listen to this book.” This time it was “Imagine Heaven”by engineer and now pastor, John Burke. So while I was walking the fields, the woods, I’d be listening to this Imagine Heaven book. I found it utterly fascinating. In fact, I listened to it twice  and today ordered the Kindle version so I can underline and more easily refer to the Biblical references he uses.

If you’ve been reading my blog, you know this recovering workaholic has; no, now it’s had, an attitude, such that I figured I’d have all of eternity to discover and experience heaven, which should be more than sufficient, therefore an excuse to keep focusing on the here and now that I thought was of greater importance. To a degree, that may be true but the problem was, I refused to understand at all, that I was not investing well in the here and now, to even get close, to ever experiencing the family reunion of all times waiting for each of us in heaven. And I can just hear you saying, “I could care less about a future family reunion, even if it were in heaven. Just three hours with those still here that Sunday afternoon last summer at Cousin Mary’s did me in. I even left early, thank you very much.”

If that remotely describes you, you really do need a change of scenery, perspective, reality, etc., and Imagine Heaven will certainly open your eyes and maybe, your seldom or underused imagination. Christians ought to be the most imaginative folks you can meet on this planet; although I’m not always so convinced. Seriously, how are we to go about living by faith without an imagination? And some of us are such Thomas’s “except we see the ….” We may think we see here on earth, but I understand earthly 3-D and color is very bland and boring compared to heavenly dimensions and colors, and we won’t need the media there either, since we may communicate without words, but instantly by thoughts. And here we thought the internet and Wi-Fi was neat, though quite addictive for the unimaginative; there totally outdated and not needed!

Now you know where to look at least. The Bible and Burke provides the interesting accounts and the scripture verses. Handy for us being so unimaginative, you know! Thanks for reading. Google the book and download the free sample. Take your imagination out of storage!             Blessings as YOU GO FORTH>>>>                   Merlin

“Here I AM Lord”

For some weeks this prayer has been written ready to go. Finally today have I been compelled to share it with you now. Constant communion with the Trinity is our lifeline. Perhaps we are wasting time being busy with many “good endeavors” while totally ignoring the essence of the gospel detailed in Matt 28:19-20 to “Go therefore, make disciples, baptizing, teaching…. and behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” We are to be “faith facilitators” to all we meet, perhaps a bit more than than the “quiet of the land,” the exception being Psalm 46:10 “Be still and know….” 

I understand that another lengthy post and the fact it is a prayer, may stretch some of you. For some time, I’ve employed the use of written prayers in my devotional periods, whether written by me to be inclusive of the diversity of my daily burden; OR, perhaps as the prayer below, that I view more as a positioning or a posturing prayer; providing me a glimpse of life’s big picture and the magnificence of just merely being in the audience, but yet, fully empowered!

I garnered the prayer below from John Eldridge recently and the credits follow the prayer. I must admit, at first it was long and verbally awkward, but now, I look forward to its introduction to my time of communion, savoring its words and phrases as he says repeatedly, ”over my spirit, soul, and body, heart, mind, and will.” Enjoy the test drive. Please email me if you desire a Word doc. be sent you. merlin.erb@gmail.com

“My dear Lord Jesus, I come to you now to be restored in you, renewed in you, to receive your life and your love and all the grace and mercy I so desperately need this day. I honor you as my Lord, and I surrender every aspect and dimension of my life to you. I give you my spirit, soul, and body, my heart, mind , and will. I cover myself with your blood  — my spirit, soul, and body, my heart, mind, and will. I will ask your Holy Spirit to restore me in you, renew me in you, and lead me in this time of prayer. In all that I now pray, I stand in total agreement with your Spirit and with all those praying for me by the Spirit of God, and by Spirit of God alone.

Dearest God– holy and victorious Trinity – you alone are worthy of all my worship, my heart’s devotion, all my praise, all my trust, and all the glory of my life. I love you, I worship you, I give myself over to you in my heart’s search for life. You alone are Life. and you have become my life. I renounce all other gods, every idol , and I give to you, God, the place in my heart and in my life that you truly deserve. This is all about you and not about me. You are the Hero of this story, and I belong to you. I ask your forgiveness for my every sin. Search me, know me, and reveal to me where you are working in my life, and grant to me the grace of your healing and deliverance, a deep and true repentance.

Heavenly Father, thank you for loving me and choosing me before you made the world. You are my true Father – my Creator, redeemer, sustainer – and the true end of all things, including my life. I love you, I trust you, I worship you. I give myself over to you, Father, to be one with you as Jesus is one with you. Thank you for proving your love for me by sending Jesus. I receive him and all his life and all his work which you ordained for me. Thank you for including me in Christ, forgiving me my sins, granting me his righteousness, making me complete in him. Thank you for making me alive with Christ, raising me with him, seating me with him at your right hand, establishing me in his authority, and anointing me with your love and your kingdom. I receive it all with thanks and give it claim to my life, — my spirit, soul, and body, my heart, my mind, and will.

Jesus, thank you for coming to ransom me with your own life.. I love you, I worship you, I trust you. I give myself over to you to be one with you in all things. I receive all the work and triumph of your cross, death, blood, and sacrifice for me, through which my every sin is atoned for; I am ransomed and delivered from the kingdom of darkness; transferred to your kingdom; my sin nature is removed and my heart circumcised unto God; and every claim being made against me is cancelled and disarmed. I take my place now in your cross and death, dying with you to sin, to my flesh, to this world, to the evil one and his kingdom. I take up the cross and crucify my flesh with all its pride, arrogance, unbelief, an idolatry ( and anything else you are currently struggling with). I put off the old man. Apply to me all the work and triumph in your cross, death, blood, and sacrifice; I receive it with thanks and give it total claim to my spirit, soul, and body, my heart, mind, and will.

Jesus, I also sincerely receive you as my Life, and I receive all the work and triumph in your resurrection, through which you have conquered sin, death, judgement, and the evil one. Death has no power over you, nor does any foul thing. And I have been raised with you to a new life, to live your life  — dead to sin and alive to God. I take my place now in your resurrection and in your life, and I give my life to you to live your life. I am saved by your life. I reign in life through your life. I receive your hope, love, joy, and faith; your beauty, goodness, trueness; your wisdom, power, and strength; your holiness and integrity in all things. Apply to me all the works and triumph in your resurrection – I receive it with thanks, and I give it total claim to my spirit, soul, and body, my heart, mind, and will.

Jesus I also sincerely receive you as my authority, rule, and dominion, my everlasting victory against Satan and his kingdom, and my ability to bring your kingdom at all times and in every way. I receive all the work and triumph in your ascension, through which Satan has been judged and cast down, and all authority in heaven and on earth has been given to you. All authority in the heavenly realms and all authority on this earth has been given you, Jesus – and you are worthy to receive all glory and honor, power and dominion, now and forever. I take my place now in your authority and in your throne, through which I have been raised with you to the right hand of the Father and established in your authority. I give myself to you, to reign with you always. Apply to me all the work and triumph in your authority and your throne; I receive it with thanks and I give it total claim to my spirit, soul, and body, my heart, mind, and will.

I now bring the authority, rule and dominion of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the full work of Christ, over my life today: over my home, my household, my work, over all my kingdom, and domain. I bring the authority of the Lord Jesus Christ and the full work of Christ against every foul and unclean spirit coming against me. (You might need to name them – what has been attacking you?) I cut them off in the name of the Lord; I bind and banish them from me and from my kingdom now, in the mighty name of Jesus Christ. I bring the authority of the Lord Jesus Christ and the full work of Christ against every foul power and black art. I also bring the full work of Christ between me and every person, and I allow only the love of God and only the Spirit of God between us.

Holy Spirit,thank you for coming. I love you, I worship you, I trust you. I receive all the work and triumph in Pentecost, through which you have come; you have clothed me with power on high; sealed me in Christ; become my union with the Father and the Son; the Spirit of truth in me, the life of God in me; my counselor, comforter,strength, and guide. I honor you as Lord, and I fully give to you every aspect and dimension of my spirit, soul, and body, my heart, mind, and will – to be filled with you, to walk in step with you in all things. Fill me afresh, Holy Spirit. Restore my union with the Father and the Son. Lead me into all truth, anoint me for all of my life and walk and calling, and lead me deeper into Jesus today. I receive you with thanks, and I give you total claim to my life.

Heavenly Father, thank you for granting to me every spiritual blessing in Christ Jesus. I claim the riches in Christ Jesus over my life today. I bring the blood of Christ once more over my spirit, soul, and body, over my heart, mind and will. I put on the full armor of God: the belt of truth, breastplate of righteousness, shoes of the gospel, helmet of salvation; I take up the shield of faith and the sword of the Spirit, and I choose to be strong in the Lord and in the strength of your might, to pray at all times in the Spirit.

Jesus, thank you for your angels. I summon them in the name of Jesus Christ and instruct them to destroy all that is raised against me, to establish your kingdom over me, to guard me day and night. I ask you to send forth your Spirit to raise up prayer and intercession for me. I now call forth the kingdom of God throughout my home, my household, my kingdom and domain, in the  authority of the Lord Jesus Christ, giving all glory and honor and thanks to him. In Jesus’ name, Amen.   

Taken verbatim from John Eldridge’s book “Moving Mountains: Praying With Passion, Confidence, and Authority” See Chapter Nine for the details surrounding John’s rationale and intent for the paragraphs above. For more prayers, see also the Appendices beginning page 232. Or go to www.ransomedheart.com

FYI

This little book in less than 7000 words has exerted major influence on me since I first read it  a year ago. I told a friend when he emailed me today that he was listening to his Kindle version, and perhaps you can identify with this though I hope not, but somehow I got my PhD in Self-Absorption before I was out of the third grade. Go figure! And this happened in a poverty stricken MN dairy farm family in an ultra-conservative WASPish Mennonite loving home totally free of today’s media crazed indulgences; BUT reading was greatly encouraged and my education was of paramount importance!

But even I in this desolate environment without electric until four, getting water in the house when I was eight and a bathroom when 11, must realize that by the time I was in the third grade, I was totally aware I was obsessed with personal success at all costs, and I masterminded manipulation in all areas of my young life; school activities, friendships whether in school or church or with siblings, constantly evaluating what cards to play when, so as to insure I got what I wanted. Early on I learned that excelling way over the top, particularly in school or chores, opened doors for selfish opportunities and indulgences the laggards could only dream of, and that selfish attitude, actually was nearly the ruination of my life. Period.

Today the word I believe put forth is entitlements … used for the financially challenged but I’m not talking financially, but rather, mentally and psychologically, where the likes of me when younger, perceived achievement and position permitted liberties to be taken in whatever forms (entitlements) that feed our quests at the moment. And yes, I understood this total Self-Absorption early on and unfortunately, never really understood what was happening until reading the likes of Tim Keller who is extremely skilled in presenting the gospel message to messed up pseudo intellectual minds such as myself. Today in the media we frequently see grown-up examples of me, such as the movers and shakers, getting caught in their webs; whether in academia, politics, business, medicine, church, etc.     

Now one more observation if you will and I hope this rocks all you parents and GP’s to your core, because if I was able in my childhood environment virtually devoid of any media influence ( except for weekly local newspaper, farm magazines, Readers Digest, Christian Living, Gospel Herald, radio (and Christian radio), to get so weird and selfish in my Self-Absorption, (not fully comprehending the significance of  such terms as we are discussing now, Self-Esteem, Ego, Self-Worth, Pride, Humility, etc.) THEN JUST CONSIDER what our youngsters and teens are contending with today. Consider just how pervasive the onslaught of the programming of their minds and intellect has been already and will continue to be from this culture. Is it fair to say perhaps we are just a tad deceived about whether they even know where the tools are to engage their future, not to mention if they can access (use) them effectively… Something to think about. The good news is we have access like never before in history to equip our youngsters and youth to engage now and destroy the likes of my self-absorption debacle and empower them with Truth and Wisdom.

This may be a short book but it is loaded with truths; simple actually, but it will take multiple exposures to fully comprehend and then utilize. This blog may not always be a walk in the park. Some of you will choose to ignore tackling the messages I’m compelled to share. I’ve been there and done that.. just never wore the T-shirt! Direction, Not Intention, Determines Destination!

I’ll post Chapter One, The Natural Condition of The Human Ego on Friday (15th) and the remaining two, on the Fridays following.

Blessings AS YOU GO Forth>>>>   Merlin

Time Out!

Good  morning everyone. I have several other pieces ready to post but my spirit is telling me “not now, maybe later, maybe never.” Strange, how I’ve been processing what’s next in my sub-conscious mind for better than a week and first I made the decision to revise and fine tune the “About this site” blurb. The only blog I ever followed was 6-8 years ago when my college room mate and his wife traveled coast to coast from CA to MD on a tandem bicycle. What a joy to join them on that trip of a lifetime! But my experience with blogs though positive, was very minimal.

So now we’re into this adventure nearly three months and already my focus is changing. First, I desire shorter posts more frequently on pertinent faith facilitating topics; such as book reviews from books I’ve read recently or whatever  I am passionate about …. and perhaps this is as a good time as any, for me to tell you real quick what makes me tick …. or not!

First and foremost, I covet an intimate growing relationship with the Trinity for that is the  foundation to my being. Key words here are intimate and growing … more recently for me; hopefully not so for you.

Second, to be a faith facilitator among everyone I meet encouraging people to consider the life options we each are given, and especially so, in the Anabaptist tradition as I recently condensed its tenants in the recent post Part Two of the Anabaptist Vision, introducing Discipleship, Brotherhood, and Love & Nonresistance.

Third, I am passionate about nurturing relationships on all levels, beginning first with who or what we worship, and that in turn will determine what drives a whole host of our primary and secondary relationships. For many, this may be reflected by brotherhood and discipleship ties. For others, the nuclear family or some facsimile is primary. The bottom line is that for too many of us, we are not experiencing the fullness of intimacy in our relationships that we need to fully function as human beings, rather than merely human doings. Hence the numerous posts recently on the book Seven Levels of Intimacy. INTIMACY is absolutely not fully possible without love. I know this stuff. I wasted my life living selfishly without fully understanding love… and I’m passionate about you realizing that real JOY in your relationships is always your choice, though it may not always be reciprocated! Consider the Gospels. 

Fourth, I’m passionate about expanding your mind and I personally use for my intelligence foundation Proverbs 9:10 “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom and the knowledge of the Holy One is understanding.” Others may not share this “rooting”but we all can greatly facilitate our wisdom and minimize our difficulties in life by opening our minds to the intricacies in this universe. Traditionally,  reading was how we expanded our intellect. Today, we have Kindle, Audible, You Tubes, blogs, documentaries, etc. Endless opportunities. But yet, we are reminded in Psalms 46:10 “Be still ….

Recently, I began reading Paul Stutzman’s Wanderer series and am nearly completed having read all his books. Johnny has connected with my spirit very uniquely on a number of fronts. First, since my accident Sept 18 my life from here forward is totally up for grabs as was Johnny’s at numerous junctures, some by his own choosing and two particularly, fate touched him intimately; so with me. And just as he was struggling to gain strength to walk home without pain meds, so am I .. and just recently even though I’m done with therapy, I struggle thinking will I ever get back to walking without swelling and excruciating pain. Valuable insights and connections are made when we read, forcing our conscious minds out of the negative default media vacuum blasting us non-stop. At the moment, I can’t recall one fictional book I read since college days (Leon Uris .. Exodus) while eating Wheaties and sliced peaches in the smallest blue mixing bowl, although I’m sure there were some.

In the last few years I’ve mostly listened to hundreds of books of a wide variety, likely 95% selected if not purchased by Loretta; but none were fictional, for I did not have time for fiction, that was indeed a waste of time (perhaps a typical attitude for a workaholic). Perhaps in instances a poor investment, but certainly not always. It is so interesting that once again, Loretta as in most of my retooling, encouraged me to read Paul’s books and in fact purchased them all since she knew I wouldn’t spend the money .. but I always read and enjoy them. And isn’t it remarkable now, how Paul Stutzman has facilitated countless “faith building clips” for my future “mental savoring” from Johnny’s experiences! 

So, therefore and not so quickly either, perhaps you better understand my life’s passions. Quite simple actually. Perhaps passions are best refined and most effectively presented when derived from life’s experiences personally gone awry?

Do read the site blurb closely. I’m working at removing the “comment box” and it may appear again until I figure out how to delete it. Do email me directly if you need to at merlin.erb@gmail.com     Thanks for reading!

 Blessings as YOU GO FORTH>>>>

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

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!

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!

Early AM May 5, 1967

So, can I presume you all have gone to sleep at least once while driving? I really doubt if any of you have struggled with staying awake while driving more than I. There were periods of my existence when I literally fell asleep weekly if not daily while driving.

The first instance I can recall now of such an all out struggle to stay awake occurred on my ‘62 Honda Dream 300 when I was 18. I was driving through the early morning hours from York NB to make an 8 am Botany exam at Hesston College. For now, never mind why I was out there in the middle of the night in the first place as that indeed may be another story.

Driving conditions that early morning on the infamous TX to Canada US Rt 81 were simply superb; wind still, 55 degrees, and a glistening heavy dew that had fallen much earlier though shining brightly now in the bright moonlight. I had passed over the Kansas line, guessing it to be around 2 am since I didn’t wear a watch back then. By then, I’d been up 20 hours after pretty much pulling an all-nighter the night prior, waxing floors on campus translating into less than three hours in the last 48. Exhaustion was really taking its toll as I headed next for Salina. Truck traffic was light that morning on that old two lane concrete ribbon stretching south through the patches of fog in the lower areas that were predictably several degrees cooler, and easily detectable as I was without either a windshield or a fairing for protection.

It was indeed a beautiful early morning to be traveling under the stars, but now I was really tired, and could only think of getting back to campus, a shower and a few hours of sleep before the exam. Fortunately for me ,I was riding without a backrest to lean against, such as a backpack, so I was not able to relax and get comfortable or likely my struggle to stay awake,would have been far more difficult. You would think just fighting the wind resistance in your face at the bikes cruising speed of 62-65 MPH would have provided the necessary impetus to stay awake.

I kept thinking of warmer and more restful experiences in my younger days as a teen in Becker County MN, such as coming in from working in the woods with Dad on a Saturday afternoon when the temp was thirty below zero with a 15-20 mph NW wind and you began shedding all those ice crusted layers to sit on a kitchen chair that I had moved to the center of the 36 inch square floor register ducted from big wood stove in the basement immediately below. Basking in that 80 plus temp, I soon warmed up and then slid over to a nearby couch for a luxurious nap before being rudely wakened and reminded it was time to begin the afternoon chores. At least the barn was insulated from above, by a mow still half filled with sweet smelling alfalfa hay and the 8 inch sidewalls were filled with wood shavings mixed with lime to discourage the mice from seeking warmth ‘there and performing their usual mischief. Exhaust fans kept the barn’s temp around 38-40 degrees and removed some of the offensive humidity and odors. Understand being raised on a MN dairy farm surrounded by more rocks than rich soil and where cold and physical exhaustion are literally your mortal enemies, I early in life learned outdoor work, whether caring for the cattle or in the woods, provided me an intense appreciation for warmth and naps, and preferably, simultaneously!

Considering my great disdain for cold, I wonder now how I ever developed such a passion for motorcycles as a teen, especially considering my cycle was my only purchased mode of transportation the last 17 months in MN before leaving for college in KS. I have many memories of being very cold traveling on my three Honda’s during my younger days. In that fact, I’m sure I’m not alone, considering the US motorcycle craze that began in the mid-sixties with the widespread marketing of the extremely reliable and affordable Japanese bikes. Strange how those Japanese bikes in the sixties evidently replaced the dime store toys from Japan I had found as a child in stores such as Woolworth’s where my Aunt Ruby worked during the fifties. Carry that a step further into the seventies and Honda very successfully broadened their US manufacturing presence into automobiles, especially with the introduction of the Civic early on so popularized by such as Rick Case Honda in NE OH in the early seventies. By ’77, Honda introduced the Accord loaded with options for a mere $3995 soon joined by if not even led by Toyota, Datsun, Mazda, etc. Who would have ever thought the cheap toys of the fifties would be replaced by quality cycles and then cars? Quite unlike the quick demise of the Yugo from eastern Europe! I wonder why? An interesting topic indeed for another day since I have a little experience in the economies of four of the former Yugoslavian countries since 2008 having traveled there on business eight times.

But exposure to the elements five decades later are no longer necessary and certainly not as trendy. US sales of motorcycles continue to plummet each decade as the younger generation now is attracted to the  abundance of creature comforts including heating AND cooling (even available in the seats), not to mention the sounds (satellite radio, elaborate stereo sound, phones, bluetooth), the sights (video players, cameras), safety features( (airbags & warnings galore!). The gas mileage available today is phenomenal; hybrids such as my Prius, can comfortably transport four larger passenger and get nearly 50 MPG whereas my two passenger Honda 300 was lucky to see 40 MPG and much less with a head wind, especially if the passengers weight equaled 300 pounds.

Sales of motorcycles today are primarily only to the hardcore enthusiasts, or the weekend warrior, who only takes his cherished bike out of the garage if the weather is ideal; dry and warm! Indeed, our culture has changed! Consider how dragging main in the sixties has been replaced now by cruising the internet on smart phones and tablets. Indeed, today creature comforts are nearly considered a right, not merely a luxury!

By now you are indeed wondering if I really did make Dan Troyers 8 am Botany test? I certainly could not have envisioned what I just shared above since I was not into science fiction during high school at all! But you must realize, diminishing your mental and visual acuity on a motorcycle at 65 MPH can be much harder to correct than when up and moving on 4 wheels with a steering wheel. Also, being warm and dry really helps. The exception to that scenario is if your only escape route is dead ahead and only 36 inches wide!

Perhaps you don’t physically nod off or snap your neck, as during class, at church, or while at the in-laws after Sunday dinner, but whether on a bike or in a car, your eyes may glaze over and presto, you drift out of your lane. And all the while, hearing the engine, feeling the air in your face, the vibrations both in your hands and feet, never forgetting the ever present bladder that needed emptying 50 miles ago. Now being so painfully full you are thinking that the discomfort may just help keep you awake …  when actually, if you were scared sufficiently, you will then become BOTH wet AND cold!

Understand, I do not fully equate falling asleep (whether nodding off or snapping your neck) while driving, in the same realm as having your eyes glaze over though their outcomes can be equally tragic. Hopefully for both your longevity and your family, you do not have a clue of what I just described in the above paragraph. I maintain the “glazing over of the eyes” condition provides you a fighting chance depending on your millisecond response to abnormal stimuli such as a change in pavement texture providing you both touch and sound variation that a trained “glazer” will aptly assimilate and respond to both timely and appropriately. Fortunately, the rumble strips now found frequently on interstate roads as well as on some two lane state routes, not only on the sides but also on the center lines, will undoubtedly prevent many future accidents by both “glazers” and “nodders”

Secretly, I hope I never have to depend on a computer driven car, though everyone who knows my driving record of late, is apt to quip that such would be an improvement! I remember so vividly a full page magazine advertisement (but not in the smaller Readers Digest format) in either ’59 or ’60 displaying two couples in a convertible going down the highway ( I think 4 lane) with the top down and the seats facing each other surrounding a little table in the center, with, I believe a board game in process. No one was steering and the traffic was flowing around them. It was a pencil drawing, and the car resembled a full size ’59 Buick, with its unique fins. I do not remember the ad’s intent or even who sponsored it….but since the only magazines I recall in our home in that era were either Successful Farming or the Farm Journal, I am totally confused as to why it may have even appeared in a farming magazine. I remember viewing that sketch frequently in that time frame of my life and thinking how unlikely that was ever to occur… but no longer! I even recall the ladies had scarves to keep their hair in check from the turbulence.

Isn’t it ironic now that the bigger problems remaining to be solved in this 60 year old glimpse into the future, has not really changed much since the Renaissance? We have yet to overcome or fully explain the effects of gravity on the board game and the drinks in the open air of the convertible at 60 MPH not to mention keeping inertia or the air turbulence in check. Maintaining safe passage in intestate traffic at 60 MPH in a driver-less car I understand now has been virtually accomplished though not yet affordable or even desirable by or for the masses.

Back to our original reality of getting back to campus for that 8 am Botany test. Yes, I was “glazing” big time. Yes, I was simply exhausted, totally spent. And I knew I was weaving in my lane that was only 11 or 12 feet wide max. I tried to concentrate on the Botany test; vocab words, photosynthesis, chlorophyll etc. No avail! I tried thinking about how it was going to be without a cycle for the immediate future as I was taking it back to sell it to Emil Yoder’s son Royce who was best friends with our campus pastor’s  eldest son, who was killed several months later during the summer of ’67 in a freak one car accident coming home for lunch on a Harvey county dirt/gravel road.

You would presume a cycle enthusiast like me even thinking about selling my bike to help pay next year’s tuition, would waken me up a bit but not so! Even recalling my good high school friend Butch slamming his new Honda CB 160 into the side of a Chevy Corvair with a canoe on top, that suddenly turned in front of him killing him instantly that Sunday evening in early May of ’65, didn’t help. I did begin thinking though how hard Butch’s death was on my folks that spring, since I had just gotten my cycle 5 weeks earlier. But now it was two years later, three AM on May 5 of 1967, and I am here in northern Kansas struggling big time for my very survival, just to merely stay awake, not fully comprehending at all in my youthfulness then, just how quickly my life could be cut so tragically short by merely drifting inches to either the left, and get clipped by a tractor trailer rig bumper like a bug on its windshield; or by drifting inches to the right, to clip one of those concrete bridges Old Rt 81 was so famous for, and in those days, of course, there were no guard rails before the bridge to guide a lane wanderer like me away from a fatal impact. 

My guess is though, at whatever age we find ourselves just now, that we all have experienced the intricacies, “fragilities”, and the “finalities” of life, whether by our actions or by those of others. It especially evident now as we look into the rear view mirror of our lives, and at my age now of 69, we seldom if ever cannot say we were very blessed to have enjoyed our years to date; mercy in the fact we didn’t get from life what we really deserved, and grace in the fact we did actually receive far more from life than we ever deserved!

And yes, I did drive onto campus soon after 5 am rejuvenated by the night’s ride and the brilliant sunrise on my left over the slightly wavering glistening maturing wheat fields, and lastly over the rows of Hesston Corp’s newly manufactured cotton pickers in the storage lo on my left, ready for transport. After a luxurious shower and a quick nap to recharge my system, I took the test and even got an A in the course. Later that day I delivered the cycle to Royce, and even better, the next day paid down my next year’s college bill with the $300 leaving only $1230 yet to pay!

Truth be told, I had bought the bike from a Delvin Schlabaugh of Wolford ND who purchased it in Sarasota FL and I rather doubt if he drove it all the way to ND. It had 3000 miles when I purchased it for $350. and had nearly 18000 miles on it when I sold it to Royce for I believe $300. Cheap miles back then certainly, but now as a parent, when I consider the risks, I was most fortunate to have endured my teenage follies.

Several weeks later after my math final, at 2:30 pm and a sizzling temp of nearly 100 degrees, I walked off campus up to the pharmacy at the intersection of Rt 81 and Main. Would you believe I was dressed in a shirt and tie, with a sign marked “Fargo ND”, ready to hitch hike back up north on the very same road I had so struggled to stay awake on only three weeks prior. Would you believe that with two short rides and one lasting thru the night requiring me to do most of the driving, I arrived in Fargo by 8 AM. the next morning! And actually, I had even a harder time staying awake that night! And those three rides during that 17 hour span, dear reader, will perhaps provide the foundation of another real life encounter, for as I recall….

Blessings!