That is Not Your Toilet Paper ~ and Other Sounds of Home

You never know what you will hear in my house.  Laughter is heard often, music, and then something like “That is not your toilet paper.”  The last is spoken to the puppy who thinks that toilet paper looks like a party streamer on a cardboard roll.   A home can hold many different sounds; kitchen sounds of meals being prepared and shared, favorite games and television shows, pets, getting ready to leave for the day, and coming home.  Getting along sounds and disagreement sounds. 

There are sounds that should never find themselves in a home, the sounds of terror, abuse, and infliction of harm.  We will be participating in a pay-it-forward project June 8 to help a place that changes the sounds from harm to home for young boys, the Miracles Can Happen Boys Ranch.  Whether the harm is from familial hurts or self-inflicted, this is a place where boys are taken into a loving home and brought up with a sense of worth and Christian values. 

What is a pay-it-forward project?  Well, seed money is received to go toward something that will help raise additional funds.  Then, the monies raised are donated to the boys ranch.  My mom was so excited when this opportunity came up, and went up with the idea of a concert where donations are taken for the ranch. 

Now that the date and time and location are set, all that is left is the music, right?  Well, there is a little more to it than that – and I’ll keep adding some updates from time to time here.  In the meanwhile, check out the flyer, add the event to your calendar, and we hope to see you there. 

The Procession

I was part of a funeral procession earlier this week. It was traveling from the graveside to the church, to celebrate the life of a good man and the beautiful legacy he is leaving his family. It struck me as the cars moved along, that this procession is such a fitting thing to do. Cars moved out of the cemetery and onto the road. Cemetery’s are sad places, but for those who know Christ it is more the grieving of change as the believer is taken to heaven.

I was in-between a white car and a bluish grey car. We pulled out of the cemetery onto the road. We traveled together, headlights on. Then, at our first intersection, another car was added. It turned off a short while later. A few more cars and a truck were added shortly after. One pulled off and another traveled on with us for a while more. Others just passed through the line, moving across the intersection and never joining us. We turned at the road for the church, found parking spots.
It struck me that this is so appropriate for life. Some people are with us from the beginning and to the end, through the entire journey. Others join us along the way and then travel with us for a little while. Some just pass through in a moment and then are gone again. Some join us part of the way through and then stay the rest of the time. Impact can be had throughout, even with those shortest of encounters.

My High Places

I recently heard a sermon on Psalm 121 and was amazed at the verse which I have ready many many times over the years, taken on new life and meaning for me.
Psalms 121 starts with a walk along the road to Jerusalem; the walker lifts their eyes from the view of the road and looks up. Looking up they see the hills surrounding Jerusalem. Hills at one time held the high places, the shrines of many different gods. The people would select the shrine which they felt would best suit their need and then go there to make a petition. Eventually, God pointed out – rather strongly – that the high places were where the view of the people was taken off of Him and onto something else.
I love hills, the softness of them from a distance, the way they shelter and embrace you from close up. And at the top, you can see so far. Sometimes though, the hills seem really far and really high – very high and very hard to climb. The roads are rutted, difficult to walk up. Each step becomes one of concentration and effort. Each time a foot is placed, it is checked for solidness before fully trusting. Looking up, I see the top of the hill and declare my effort and exertion worth it.
Looking up on the way to Jerusalem, the walkers would have been greeted with the sight of the high places. Could those really help them? No, of course not. Even the next verse goes on to say, “My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.” There are high places in my life though, and if you are honest I would imagine that there are some in yours as well. What kind of high places? Well, security for one. I want to feel secure, and sometimes that means that I don’t really want to lean on God, because maybe it doesn’t feel secure. Another one might be trust as I have moved from place to place, why am I here God? Why not over there? Why move again? Time, priorities, matters of value, matters of conscience and integrity, decisions in a fast paced life.
When my eyes gather the view above, on the hills, I need to refocus. The refocus on God lets me cut past the places I put in place of God and realize where my help really comes from. “My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.”

Just Like a Ripe Blueberry

The Disney movie, The Rocketman, has a rather predictable but hilarious character in Fred Randall. Fred, the typical geeky computer guy with a great heart is the main character and appears on the scene partially blue from being sucked into the toilet. You just have to watch the movie to understand. But, he looks at earth and compares it to a ripe blueberry, something that you hold so gently in your palm.

While I have not had the particular pleasure of comparing the earth to a ripe blueberry from space, I have had the chance from the air. The lines that I see on maps fade out and everything is seen from a much different view.

Technology has offered some different views as well. As I sat the other night, chatting with a friend in Ohio, looking at pictures of a friend in Florida, and challenging another to a game of Tetris, it once again surprised me at how very small the world has become. Technology, though it may seem to sterilize our communication at time when losing the emotional face to face interaction, allows quick and daily views into each other’s lives. We can even link in information from the Department of State to hear about what is going on in the government, see new exhibits with the Smithsonian, read the latest in professional journals, as well as read and watch about our own local town’s goings on.

I wonder if as we progress down the paths of technology, if the value of our face to face time will increase even more. I know there are predictions of how we will lose the ability to communicate except via technology. But, as something becomes more rare, it generally becomes more precious. I wonder if instead of typing classes, high schools will now have communication curriculum. I can read the class catalogue now, Day to Day Speaking 101: how to speak to your classmate without a computer in hand. Okay, so a bit of sarcastic tongue in cheek tone there, but really it may be the opposite of the predictions. We may learn to utilize the technology better, to facilitate communication rather than lose aspects of it.