Kents space

            I do a lot of driving during the course of a day in order to run my business.  For twelve years I commuted about an hour away to work.  I was working as a sub-contractor and the work was good.  During the years we were raising our children, the job security was something we were grateful for.  Although I don’t drive quite as much, I still spend a lot of time on the roads, usually two or three hundred miles a week.

            In all this time driving, hazards are often encountered.  Sometimes it is debris on the road, other times it’s a crash…sometimes minor, sometimes serious.

            One time I was driving behind a truck loaded with pallets of bricks.  Of a sudden, some of the bricks came off a pallet and fell to the roadway.  Some of the bricks fell to the pavement and slid along the road while some of them bounced up in the air, spinning so fast that they looked like balls.  I’m talking bouncing up ten feet in the air or more.  It’s good I wasn’t following too close and could slow down without getting hit with one of those spinning balls.

            Another time I was following a truck that was hauling old automotive parts.  There was a transmission on the back of the flatbed that looked like it was working its way slowly to the edge.  I held back as I observed this and, sure enough, it eventually fell off.  It didn’t bounce up, but would have done some damage if hit.  It slid off the side of the road, the truck driver unaware of it, continued on his way.

            There was the day that I was driving behind a semi that had smoke coming from the rear axle.  I was in the next lane and about to pass it and it made me nervous.  I sped up to get past it.  Just as I passed that axle, the bearing seized up and there was a loud boom.  The set of duel wheels broke free and came across the lane I was in, hitting the car behind me in the side.  Fortunately no one was injured, but it was a scary situation at freeway speeds.

            Then there was the time that someone lost a piece of sheet metal duct.  I could see it a couple of blocks ahead of me sitting on the lines between lanes.  All the other drivers in their cars were staying in their lanes and missing it just fine.  Just as I got to it, a pickup driver bumped it just enough to put it in my lane in front of me.  I had no choice but to hit it.  I was in a new pickup doing about 75mph.  My left front tire hit it and exploded.  I was able to get off to the side of the road safely.  Not the best of days but no one was hurt…Just the expense of a new tire.

            My friend Russ has a sister that was following a truck that had car parts on it.  An axle fell off, bounced up and into her car.  She had no chance to swerve or stop.  He was devastated at the loss of his sister.

            There were numerous other times and instances where I witnessed these things happen, including some serious road rage. 

            As I was writing this, I began to think about the road of life and the debris that gets strewn along our paths.  Sometimes the debris is things that hinder us in our progress with our careers. Other times it might be something that hinders us with the relationship we have with our families or others.  Oft times it might be something that affects us spiritually.  At any rate, the debris that we encounter can be painful and many times very personal.  We each have our own cross to carry and how we deal with it can be immensely different for each of us.  Some avoid this debris through counseling.  Others might choose a different course of action, perhaps choosing not to deal with the debris, heading for a crash by hiding behind the effects of drink or drugs. 

            I think one of the best ways to deal with debris is to spend time in serving others.  It gets our mind off of the debris and helps us to avoid the crashes that would hinder and depress us in life’s progress and growing experiences.

            Particularly at this time of year, might we each look for the opportunities of service for those less fortunate.  Whatever we have, be it plenty, be it scant, there are those wanting, who would be grateful for the mite that we could share.  It might help them avoid the debris and crashes in their lives.  Take time, look around and it’s not hard to see someone in need.

            One of my favorite poems by Ella Wheeler Wilcox puts it in perspective for me       

One ship sails East,
And another West,
By the self-same winds that blow,
Tis the set of the sails
And not the gales,
That tells the way we go.

Like the winds of the sea
Are the waves of time,
As we journey along through life,
Tis the set of the soul,
That determines the goal,
And not the calm or the strife.

            In Matt 16:25 is a recipe for avoiding debris and crashes:

25 For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it.

 I’ve learned that as God blesses lives, many times, he impresses people and directs them to serve those who have needs.  Might we learn to steer clear of debris in our lives and have smooth sailing along our road of life or whatever path we so choose to travel.  Might we be aware of those impressions from above and lose ourselves in the service of others.

            Visiting a new doctor for the first time can be a little scary.  Especially when you are getting a procedure done that you aren’t too enthusiastic about.  Such was the case with me yesterday.

            The procedure complete, I was exiting the building which was about a block from the hospital.  I noticed a man walking up the opposite side of the road rather briskly.  Normally it wouldn’t have drawn my attention, but this man had a rather determined look on his face.  He was barefoot and wearing a hospital gown.  That’s right, one of those gowns that has a couple of ties in the back and if not held closed, exposes ones back side…err should I say buttocks.

            I thought to myself that this patient was taking the exercise walk a little to the extreme.  About that time, a man in dark blue scrubs came running from the hospital and caught up with the patient.  “Hospital gown man” didn’t look too happy and “blue scrubs” was having a hard time getting him to turn around and head back to the hospital.  Then another man came running up to them.  This man had on dark pants and a white shirt and there was a badge on the shirt.  “Security man” and “blue scrubs” each took the “hospital gown man” by an arm and walked him back towards the hospital.  “Hospital gown man” was resisting the whole time but with the two workers helping him along forcefully, they were making progress, albeit slow…buttocks showing and all.   

            For my soul delighteth in the song of the heart; yea, the song of the righteous is a prayer unto me, and it shall be answered with a blessing upon their heads.[1]

Sometimes it’s hard to come up with the words that would befittingly express the feelings I would like to express.

 Among those feelings are the feelings of sadness because of the lies and betrayal of someone, most loved by Nan and I.  I lament that I unknowingly enabled the situation, not recognizing or perhaps not wanting to accept what might be happening.  The harsh blow of reality sometimes catches us off guard and shocks us to the very core. 

I feel a need to write and express the gratitude I have for the love of a wonderful spouse who has the wisdom and love that only a mother and wife can exhibit.  The heartache she feels is undeserved of one so loving, trusting and caring. 

I have a need to express the love I have for a Heavenly Father that can lift my spirit with his matchless love and understanding.  

            When tough times come, as they do to all of us, I often find solace in hymns that draw me close to God.  As I ponder the past few months and how they relate to the ups and downs of the present situation, I find myself thinking of the hymn “How Gentle Gods Commands”.  The last verse says “His goodness stands approved, Unchanged from day to day; I’ll drop my burden at His feet and bear a song away”.

            As He has heard and answered my prayers, I can only feel humbled and in awe, that He would be so kind to me by allowing me to drop my burdens at His feet as they weigh constantly in my thoughts and on my soul.

            “I marvel that He would descend from his throne divine to rescue a soul so rebellious and proud as mine, that he should extend his great love unto such as I, sufficient to own, to redeem, and to justify”[2].

            I often awake in the morning with a song or hymn on my mind.  Perhaps it is His way of letting me know He cares.  Sometimes it is a hymn I am only vaguely aware of and I have to look it up to find its message.

            As I read the blogs of others, I realize that my troubles are small compared to many and that I wouldn’t trade my problems for anyone else’s. I know that as we learn to deal with the present, there will be brighter days in the future. 

            Where, when my aching grows, Where, when I languish, Where, in my need to know, where can I run? Where is the quiet hand to calm my anguish? Who, who can understand?  He, only One.[3]

            For quite a few years, we have made an annual pilgrimage to Idaho…land of potatoes.  Our daughter’s husband and in-laws used to grow spuds and we would, each fall, go and bring a load home for us and our children.   A few years ago they quit raising potatoes, instead, opting to raise sugar beets and grain.  With their connection to neighbors who still raise potatoes, we still make our annual trip to that neighboring state to bring home the food staple that almost all of us like.

            When the apple crop in our orchard is abundant, we take apples with us so they can have and share in our harvest.  This was one of those years when we had plenty of apples, so I took apples to Idaho and brought spuds back.

            The difference this year was that we weren’t able to spend as much time visiting our family there.  We didn’t arrive until late evening on Friday and only stayed until noon on Saturday.

            Before leaving for Idaho, with work matters pressing me, I had to squeeze a whole day of work into five hours.  This consisted of sending out my billings so I can get paid next month, picking up supplies for the jobs, picking up the payroll, going to a job where I had to make sure my electrical boxes and pipes were properly installed in the brick, dig a trench, bore under a walkway, install the conduit and bury it and grade the area that I dug.  Having done this, I still had to clean out my truck, load the apples and shower and clean up before we could leave.  When all this was done, I was so tired that my whole body ached, so instead of leaving when Nan got home from work, I had to have a short "power nap" to insure my alertness for the drive.

             With slow traffic due to an accident and an area of road construction, the drive took an extra forty five minutes.  We didn’t arrive until almost 7:00 PM.  Not getting any younger, I felt exhausted when we arrived and was more than happy to plop down in a soft chair in front of the TV until supper was ready to eat.  Waiting for dinner, I was nodding off, the fatigue wreaking havoc on my aching and tired body.

            Not wanting to miss some visiting with my daughter and grandkids, I continued to stay up and visit after supper.   

I have a grandson, eight years young, who is unusually perceptive when it comes to sensing others needs.  He seems to see the needs of others when it isn’t always obvious to the rest of us.  He will see someone loaded down or in a wheel chair, and go out of his way to open a door or do something to ease their burden.  If someone drops something, he is the first to assist them in picking up their goods.  It seems that he can perceive how people are doing or feeling.

            Now, I’m not saying that this young man is perfect.  He throws tantrums, and is mischievous as most any young man can be at that age.  He can hold his own while fighting with his brothers and sister.  When invited to do chores, sometimes it takes reminding him a few times…Just a normal kid.

            When the noise of the grandchildren and the TV got to be a bit too much for me, I decided to go to the shop where I knew my son-in-law was working.  As I headed out the door, Austin decided to join me.  He didn’t ask, only stated that he was going with me.

            My son-in-law and I get along really well, and we had a nice visit as he changed the oil on a tractor prior to the next morning’s work in the fields.  As I stood and visited with my son-in-law, Austin was spinning around in the shop on a John Deere tricycle that has seen a lot of use and abuse for several years.

            Still tired and aching from the work and drive, even though I was enjoying the visit, I was really starting to hurt.  I heard a noise from across the shop and here comes Austin with a chair.  It was one on wheels like we use in an office and the wheels were noisy in the concrete shop floor.  He pushed it over to me without saying a word.  I sat in it and relaxed, glancing at him sitting next to me on the John Deere tricycle.  He was busy watching his dad put the six gallons of oil in the tractor.  I gently reached over and touched his ear to get his attention, and told him “thank you”.  This perceptive young man casually said “you’re welcome” as natural as if it was part of his normal conversation. 

            Austin, with his intuition to help those in need, had again found a recipient for his good deeds.   Fetching a chair for someone, hurting and tired, will never be forgotten. 

            I’m sure his parents are proud of him.  He’s a fine son to them, one I am proud to call a grandson. 

            This coming weekend is the annual deer hunt.  For as long as I can remember, it has always started at daylight on the third weekend in October.  There was a time when I spent time and money planning for this big event, but that was years ago.  The feeling is upon me that sometime I would like to go again…not to shoot anything, but to spend that time with those I love.

            I’m reminded of the Players.  I spent some wonderful times hunting with them.  They hunted the same place for many years and probably still do.  Garnet, the dad, even in his old age would come on the hunt, if only to stay in camp and cook.  It was an annual event and a great opportunity to spend time with his sons, and eventually grandsons too.  Garnet died the day before the deer hunt a few years ago.  His sons and grandsons went on the hunt as usual, spending the evening before opening day of the hunt, reminiscing about all the years and the good times they were able to spend together and with him.

            As a youngster, when I finally reached the legal age to hunt, and having obtained the proper permits, I purchased a hunting rifle and my father took me into the mountains to hunt.  He hadn’t hunted in years, and probably was not a very good hunter, but wanting to spend time with me and allow me the opportunity, we drove some back roads to likely looking area.

            I would state here that my father was no youngster.  He was forty years old when I was born.   He had worked hard all his life, and had a few health issues…although not severe.  I didn’t think much about him hiking around the hills at his age because he was very active at his construction job and probably in good shape.

            Dad sent me ahead to an area he thought would likely produce a buck and he said he would catch up with me in a while.  He wanted to take it slow and enjoy a slow hike.  Anxious as I was to shoot my first deer, I hurried ahead and spent a good deal of time overlooking a little clearing and the draws leading to it.  I don’t even recall how long I looked and watched and waited, but I never saw a single solitary deer.  I waited quite some time, but dad never did catch up.  I thought that perhaps he took a different turn and didn’t know where I was.  Finally I decided to go find him so we could spend the time together.

            As I retraced my route from the clearing to the truck, I passed through a stand of aspen with a few golden leaves on the trees, but mostly a thick blanket of them on the ground.  It was hard not to make a lot of noise walking in those dry leaves.  It was there that I found dad.  I thought he had died of a heart attack.  He was laying face down with his face in the leaves like he had fallen.  I hurried to his side and called “dad”.  He rolled over and sat up, blinking the sleep from his eyes. 

            To this day, I don’t know if he fell, passed out or if he had just lain down and went to sleep, but to my relief, he woke up.

            I wish I knew where that place was.  I know the general area, but of course that was somewhere around forty five years ago and I just can’t pinpoint it in my mind.  Now, the reason I would again like to find it isn’t for sentimental reasons.  When hiking down the trail that many years ago, there were white quartz rocks beside the trail, and they had little veins of gold in them.  At the time, I just passed it off as “fools” gold, but now when I think back on it, I could have passed up the real thing.  I’ll never know for sure, and it would be a “fools” errand for me to spend my time looking for something I know so little about.

            My dad had an uncle whom he loved, and he even worked for him for a period of time.  This uncle loved to hunt and fish.  Dad once asked him “Uncle Will, what are you going to do if you die and on the other side there isn’t any hunting and fishing?”  His uncle replied “you know, when I was a kid, there wasn’t anything better than playing a game of marbles with my friends…but I grew up.”

             I hope I am wise enough to spend my remaining years looking for and developing treasures that I can take with me when I depart this life…knowledge, love, patience, brotherly kindness, and most of all, gratitude for the blessings given my by a loving Heavenly Father.

            In Matthew 6 it says:  

 19 ¶ Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal:

 20 But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal: