Weeping

I have repeatedly heard pundits make fun of John Boehner because he has wept publicly on a number of occasions.

Really?

Is it now politically incorrect for a man to weep in public?  Is a man less masculine because he shows emotion?

I have to be honest, I weep very rarely.  However, I do weep.  [Oh my!]

There are times when a man is moved deeply and it becomes difficult to speak.

So many men have been taught that real men don't cry, so they fight with all their might to prevent public tears.  Open expression of deep emotion seems to be a cause for public shame.

Anyone who has heard me speak knows that there are occasions when my emotions are so stirred that my voice cracks and I have to fight the tremors in my voice as I proceed.  Am I less of a man because of this?

Shouldn't a man weep when he's deeply grieving?  Aren't tears a natural response to pain?  Is it wrong for a man to be emotionally stirred when he sees the flag being raised and hears the national anthem - especially if that man has left fallen comrades on the battlefield?

I'm not talking about public blubbering or frequent outbursts of uncontrolled hysteria.  I'm talking about the honest expression of tears that belay a deep emotional feeling.

I think most men - if honest - would admit that they are occasionally moved to tears.  Remember the shortest verse in the Bible?  "Jesus wept."  [John 11:35].  One of His best friends had died.  Others were weeping - and Jesus joined them.

I think what we're after here is an honest expression of genuine emotion. When that occurs - in a man or woman - I don't think it should be responded to with mockery.

What do you think?

Poison

In 399 B.C. Socrates drank a bowl of hemlock and self-initiated his own death. He had been found guilty by 280 of 500 of his fellow Athenians.  The poison first numbed his feet, then his legs.  Gradually it affected his ability to speak and then his consciousness.

Bitterness has the same effect as hemlock!  Recently I had a conversation with a couple who were deeply hurt by gossip in the church.  They dropped out of a prayer group because of this gossip.  It had - at some point - focused on their family.  They are still hurt and angry about it.  I wonder how long ago this offense took place.

Their report affected me too.  I also feel the bitterness of betrayal that results from gossip.  Most churches struggle to keep their prayer chain from becoming a gossip chain!  Our craving to know details often supersedes our genuine compassion.  We share intimacies not because we care, but because it gives us a feeling of power to know something that others don't know.  It's evil.

Psalm 141:3-7    The Voice (VOICE)

 Guard my mouth, O Eternal One;
    control what I say.
    Keep a careful watch on every word I speak.

Don’t allow my deepest desires to steer me toward doing what is 
    wrong or associating with wicked people
Or joining in their wicked works or tasting any of their pleasures.

Lord,
We need Your help to keep our words appropriate and just.  

When we have been hurt by gossip, help us to forgive.

When we have hurt others by gossip, help us to seek forgiveness and make amends.

Help us to remember that "...the tongue is a flame of fire.  It is full of wickedness, and poisons every part of the body...Men have trained, or can train, every kind of animal or bird...but no human being can tame the tongue.  It is always ready to pour out its deadly poison."  

Help those whose trust has been destroyed to heal.

Hold those accountable who take delight in hurting others!

Let Your Kingdom come, O Lord, through the power of Your Holy Spirit at work within us!
Amen.


[The scripture quoted in the prayer is from James 3:6-8  (NLT)]

Zero Turn

I had quite a ride yesterday! 

My brother-in-law, Wally, gave me a five-minute lesson on how to drive his zero-turn lawn mower (the one with no steering wheel, but two bars instead).  Then, as he walked away, I took off to mow the little acre around our trailer. 

I hope there's no hidden-camera videos of the next hour!

Everybody says that I'll get the hang of it and will eventually fly across the lawn like a pro.  It didn't happen yesterday! 

The darn levers are so touchy!  One slight move and I was heading off to the right or left!  Going straight was a joke!  It never happened.  There were a few times when I was simply out-of-control! 

Once when I stopped to move some lawn furniture, the thing shut off.  I guess it automatically does that when you leave the seat.  I had a hard time figuring out how to start it again. 

I bumped the trailer several times, knocked my hat off going under a tree, and almost went off into the woods while cutting the perimeter!  It was a zoo!  Anyone watching would've have been bent over in hysterics!

When Deb came home, she commented on how great the place looked!  I didn't bother to tell her about my hair-raising experiences.  I'm just glad I got the job done!

God's Choice

On Monday evening at 5:00 PM, I arrived at Kittanning FMC in time to have the evening meal with the God's Choice ministry.  About a dozen volunteers prepared the meal and served it.  There were about forty present including volunteers and guests.

God's Choice ministry is designed to minister to those with special needs.

Amy Poole and her brother, Pastor Mark Crosby, led the teaching and worship time - respectively.  The singing was fun and there was lots of laughter!  The meal was excellent:  pork, potatoes, peas and carrots, apple sauce, salad, pudding, and donuts.

Special prizes were presented to those who could answer questions about the lesson.

There was a general atmosphere of love and respect that permeated the whole evening.  The volunteers seemed genuinely glad to be there.

The guests were obviously excited and happy to be there!  They exchanged 'high fives' and hugs.  They laughed with each other.  Some colored pictures of  a Bible story scene.  It was a genuinely joyful two hours!
I was proud to be leading a church that cares enough to minister to this special audience!  Somehow, when the program ended and everyone left, I thought to myself:  "Jesus would have loved to have been here!". Then, it occurred to me:  JESUS WAS HERE!!!!  

Sleeping on the Floor

When I was a kid (or as Len Sweet puts it: wiwak), my mother had an amazing skill that she had highly developed by the time her fourth kid came along.  She could convince me to do things and make me feel that it was an honor to do so.

When company would come, she would tell me that the company would be using my bed.  As a result, I would be allowed to sleep on the living room floor.  It would be like camping inside!  I could use my sleeping bag and have a flashlight.  It would be so much fun!

Every time this happened, I eagerly unrolled my sleeping bag and crawled into it feeling that I was the luckiest person in the house!

I miss her!  She died in 1981, two months after Tracibeth was born.  She taught me so much!  Her spiritual influence was massive!  She had a unique sense of humor.  She loved me.

By the way, I slept on the floor of my new office last night.  That's what triggered this post!  I laid in the dark and thought about my Mom.

First Day on the Job

It's kind of nerve-wracking.  Will I like the people I work with?  Will they like me?  Will I be able to do the job?  I hope I don't mess up and make a fool of myself?  Is this job going to be fulfilling?

Debbie started her new job this week at Springfield Elementary School in New Middletown.  She is an assistant in the Cognitive Development class.  They have nine students. 

She was pretty nervous about starting again.  It's a brand new building, so excitement was high!  She likes her teacher, Julie, and they share a like faith!  The job is more demanding than she expected and she comes home tired.  But, as far as first-day-jitters, they only really occur on the first day!  :-)

This'll be her tenth year in this school district.  It might be her last!

I also have a new job.  I went over to Kittanning, Pennsylvania, about two weeks ago to meet with the Board of the Kittanning Free Methodist Church.  I also went over this past week for one day to meet a couple of leaders and scope out my new office.

This morning, Debbie and I left at 7:30 AM;  it takes about seventy-five minutes to drive from the farm to the church.  I was not feeling well this morning, but easily made it through the morning.  We were greeted joyfully by everyone we met. 

The building is quite beautiful and the location is spectacular!  The people were friendly and received us graciously - even having a snack-fellowship after worship to welcome us! 

There was an array of ages from young children to older members.  The sanctuary seats nearly two-hundred in very comfortable seats - although there were probably only one-hundred present.  Plenty of room for growth! 

Being a veteran in this role, I wasn't really nervous about fulfilling my responsibilities, but I was concerned about being accepted.  The church family seemed anxious to receive us;  especially since they have not had a pastor since June.

So, we're both past the first day!  It feels good.  At least the first-day-jitters are behind us. 

We're grateful to God for opening these roles for us - even before we had left China! 

Now, we can get to work!

Open and Honest

I've received lots of feedback from a recent blog-post:  "Would You Still Love Me?".  Many people have simply indicated that they do still love me in spite of the struggle I'm having with re-entering American culture.  I must confess that I never expected such a response to my scribblings.

Quite a few have affirmed me for my honesty about passing through a tough time and dealing with chronic sadness.  One dear friend captured it best with her words:  "If people don't still love you because you bare your soul, did they really love you in the first place? I am not shocked or dismayed because you are having a hard time. I am glad that you openly shared what you are going through. How can people honestly lift you up in prayer, asking the Father for what you really need if you don't reveal what you really need?"

My greatest help has come from others who have also lived in another culture for an extended period of time.  Their words and assurances have helped me to see that what I'm going through is not unique.  One even reported that after two years of working here, she still wants to be back where she was serving. 

The article I wrote was my first venture into transparency.  I had spent a month in quiet misery.  Since the article I've been pretty candid in conversations and on-line dialogues - even with my students in China. 

Just tonight, I began a more open and honest sharing with Debbie about my feelings.  Although my words are hard to hear, I know she is glad that I've begun to express my feelings. 

It's clear that these ventures into transparency have begun a process of healing.  I'm certainly not there yet, but I have at least made a slight turn in the right direction.  I appreciate the prayers that some have lifted on my behalf.  I also appreciate your kind words.  A few even brought a smile to my face - something rare recently.

We really are in this together.  Remember all the "one another" passages in the New Testament?  We serve a vital role in helping one another stay healthy.  When we struggle alone and suffer quietly, we not only deepen our own pain but we also deprive others who love us of the opportunity to help us.  What a shame! 

In reality, we're all on one side or the other on occasions.  Much of the time I am capable of being a blessing and source of joy and encouragement to others.  However, sometimes I stumble into a pit that paralyzes me and causes me to think only negative thoughts.  [Yes, it's true - hard to believe, huh?]  At these times, I'm not much good to others!

Pride is our big enemy in those troubled times.  I don't want to admit that I'm struggling.  I want you to think that I'm always strong and capable.  But we all know what pride precedes - right?  After writing that first article, my finger hovered over the "Publish" button for several minutes before courage or foolishness got me to push it!

Hey, I'm not where I want to be yet and I'm certainly not where I need to be  -  but I'm also not where I was two weeks ago.  That's hopeful.

So, what's your take-away from this latest purging of my soul?  Drop me a note and let me know... 

Breaking Oreo Cookies

When I arrived in China, I was happy to discover that I could buy Oreo cookies.  I carried them in my backpack everywhere I went.  On many occasions, I shared them with my students.  The response was always the same:  they would break the cookie into two or three pieces and savor each bite. Sometimes they would save a piece for later in the day. Rarely would they accept a second cookie.

I was in MacDonald's the other day.  The napkin-holder had a sign:  "Take only what you need!".  I watched several customers take inch-thick stacks of napkins to their seat.

I'm spending Labor Day weekend camping with friends.  The restroom has a towel dispenser that releases one towel at a time.  I noticed several men who pulled out six or eight towels, wadded them up and tossed them into the garbage.

Our children's eye's light up at the sight of a can of pop;  they take a few sips and then wander away, forgetting all about it.  After all, they know there's plenty more where that came from.

Ours is a culture of surplus.  We live in a world of abundance.  The value of conserving has been replaced with the value of consuming.

It's the inevitable result of living in a developed (affluent) nation.

It wasn't always this way.  Some of us were taught:  "Only use two or three sheets of TP." Anybody remember this one:  "Waste not - want not"?  Remember getting two cents for returning a pop bottle?  [In some states, maybe you still do.]   How many of you grew up wearing hand-me-downs? 

Wealth has changed us!

Adjusting our attitudes and developing a lifestyle of conserving and restraint would be countercultural and would have to be intentional.  You would be in the minority.  But, you would have the self-satisfaction of knowing that you are bucking a flagrant trend in our culture. 

The greatest challenge (and opportunity) comes for those who are still parenting 'at-home' children!  You have the amazing capacity of teaching your children through your words and your modeling!  You can truly make a generational difference. 

Learning to appreciate what we have is a great goal!  Deliberately practicing restraint has its own internal rewards! 

Would You Still Love Me?

Confession is good for the soul - right?  James writes: "Get into the habit of confessing your sins to one another."

One of the toughest questions I've had to contend with lately is: "How are you?", or its kissing cousin, "How are things going?"

I know that these questions are only cultural mores. I know that the person expects a perfunctory response such as "Fine".  But to say that I'm fine when I'm not feels like deception. So goes my daily struggle.

Years ago I read a book by John Powell. It was titled, "Why am I afraid to tell you who I really am?"  I know - it's a really long title!  Toward the end of the book a young lady answers this question:  "Because if I tell you who I really am and you don't like me, it's all I have."

Baring one's soul is not socially acceptable - not even in church;  which is kind of a shame (based on the above scripture).

So, if I'm candid here - or painfully honest - will you still love me?

I've told several people lately that the last month wasn't the worst month of my life, but it does rank in the bottom three. Having to move twice in a month is a bummer - not to mention exhausting. But it's not really about the moving. It's mostly about having to leave a job and a city that I genuinely loved!

I knew our time was limited. I know I'm fortunate that Debbie was willing to stay for three years!  I'm grateful for that!  The fact remains that I didn't want to leave. I'll be honest;  the school could not offer me a new contract because of new age rules in our province. To continue in my role, we would have had to move to another province.

Still, I would have welcomed that!

We recently watched a Steve Martin/Goldie Hawn movie, "Out Of Towners".  In this movie, their trip to NYC turns into a nightmare!  Watching this movie seems to have triggered a déjà vu experience for us. Several times we expressed to each other our desire for something to go right!  It rarely did.

I didn't handle this well. I became angry and then depressed.

Too truthful for you?  Maybe you should bail out and go back to Facebook?

I've been in the dark for weeks now. I really want to go back to China to continue teaching - but that's not an option. It may never be - and I have to accept that.

A lot of things haven't gone the way I expected or wanted since July 26th (the day we left Changchun).

But, life goes on. I'm trying to rally. Some days I manage to feel a little hopeful;  other days - I fall back into the rut.

The chaos of our lives has destroyed the disciplines of my life. Much-needed solitude has been quarantined by the manifold daily demands.

But there is light at the end of the tunnel - I hope it's not the headlight of an oncoming train! Boxes are being unpacked. Jobs are getting done in our little trailer.  We have two vehicles now.  Order is slowly but surely returning. Another month and we may even be able to find some of the things we need!  That'll be cool.

In the meantime, I'm trying my best to climb out of the pit and accept my present circumstances. Progress is slow!

Sorry!  I know you want a strong, happy ending - but I just can't give you that today. Give me a couple months- or maybe longer.

So, how about it?  Do you still love me?

Welcome Home

I've been out of the country for three years.  Now that I'm back in the U.S., I keep receiving this greeting:  "Welcome Home!".  It's strange.  I really don't feel like I'm home.  Home has changed for me.  After three years of living in Changchun, China, it now feels more like my home than western Pennsylvania or eastern Ohio. 

In so many ways I feel like a stranger now in my home country.  The culture has moved on without me.  I've acclimated to a new culture.  I feel lost. 

Friends who have lived abroad tell me that I'll get over this.  In my heart I know that I will - in time.  But for right now, I'd really like to board a plane and go home!