tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62228809199627092172024-03-05T18:18:41.763-08:00Dan's ThoughtsDan-ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498485884852538560noreply@blogger.comBlogger97125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6222880919962709217.post-3207527195494695222023-11-20T07:47:00.000-08:002023-11-20T07:47:40.752-08:00Reminders<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal">Reminders<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Remind me please, why we so easily drift toward darkness<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Remind me please, why we so readily love evil<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Remind me please, how to love past hatred<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Remind me please, what to do after the other cheek has been
turned and struck<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Remind me please, why there is a need for forgiveness<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Remind me please, why your name is Redeemer<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Remind me please, <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Remind me <o:p></o:p></p>Dan-ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498485884852538560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6222880919962709217.post-24272973108224505532023-08-28T14:41:00.000-07:002023-08-28T14:41:22.357-07:00All Dogs Eat Poop<p> An unusual event occurred in our house today.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Our dog threw up.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">How is that unusual you ask? Don’t all dogs throw up once in
a while?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As a matter of fact, yes, all dogs throw up once in a while.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The fact that she threw up is, for her, somewhat
unusual, but that isn’t really the unique aspect of the situation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s more <b><i>what</i></b> she puked.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It was poop.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The stuff that’s supposed to come out of the "pooper" end of
the dog rather than the "eater" end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which
would indicate that the poop went <i>in</i> to the eater end after it
came <i>out</i> of the pooper end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is
disgusting.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Now let me be clear: I love dogs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think they are one of God’s greatest
creations, and great companions to humans as a whole.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve had a dog for most of my life, and they
have all been good to have around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But,
being animals, they have some habits that my human sensibilities find…. Unfathomable.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Like the sniffing of butts and crotches.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Or dragging their butts across the carpet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(“Hey stop that!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s disgusting!” “No, it’s not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t have opposable thumbs so I can’t use
toilet paper.” “Point taken.”)<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Or rolling around in really stinky stuff, and then running
up to rub all over you to share it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(“This
smells SO much better than that stuff you put on, doesn’t it?!”)<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Anyway, you get my point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There are some of you who will insist that your dog would NEVER eat
poop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are clearly lying to yourself.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There may be some nutritional aspects to this that I am not
aware of.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or it’s possible it’s just a
flavor issue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She seems to do it more
after we’ve given her some tasty fish or chicken scraps in her bowl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe it tastes better after it’s had time to
go through the “fermentation” process.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
heard an interview once with a fighter pilot who was talking to a newscaster he
was taking up on a demonstration flight.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Newscaster: “Are there any foods I should eat or avoid
before the flight?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Pilot: “If you have to eat anything I recommend bananas.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Newscaster: “Why bananas?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Are they good for motion sickness or something?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Pilot (smiling): “No.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They taste the same going down as they do coming up.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So, it ain’t bananas, but maybe it’s the same for poop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t know and don’t care to.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There are some of you who own cats and dogs in the same household.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a day when you wondered why your cat
wasn’t using the litterbox as much as she used to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There just weren’t as many cat turds in the
box as you expected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You looked around
the house desperately trying to find the new spot she must be using to no
avail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You concluded the cat must be
constipated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You started looking at products
to “get things moving again” to relieve the cat’s supposed suffering.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Then one day the dog looked at you and said, “Hey, just so
you know, the cat’s ok.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You accepted
this as a true statement because the dog had kitty litter on her nose as proof.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The cat was as relieved as you to be spared
from the approaching enema.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So, when the dog pukes poop right in front of you, it’s
really better for you to just accept the clear evidence and admit that he did it, than to keep insisting
he would never do anything so offensive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Dogs will be dogs after all.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">©Dan Bode 2023<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Dan-ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498485884852538560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6222880919962709217.post-82529604148828528722023-06-13T10:52:00.003-07:002023-06-15T06:53:02.224-07:00Kindness is underrated<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal">I live with kindness on a momentary basis.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I decided a while back that kindness was a better motivation
for living out my life than most of the alternatives I’d been trying up to that
point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tried anger, then sorrow, then confusion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>None were satisfying, or good for my health,
because they all take a physical toll as well.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I started thinking about this the other day when a lady cut
in front of me in line at the store.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There were two lines next to each other, and when the person in front of
me left the register, she jumped lines right in front of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was so unexpected that I was a little
confused at first.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then I realized what
she had done, and I had a momentary flash of irritation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was at the end of a frustrating series of
events that morning so I was already a little tense, and I’m kind of a big guy
with a resting face that I don’t think people find generally comforting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I started to take a step forward and opened
my mouth to say something (it would have been a real zinger I’m sure), and then
felt like God just tugged the back of my collar and set me back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had a bit of a conversation.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Hey, have you looked at yourself this morning?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I’ve been trying to avoid that, thank you very much.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Yeah well, it’s not your greatest look right now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just sayin’.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Your point being?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“My point being that if you’re talking to GOD like this
right now maybe another human being might have some trouble dealing with that
attitude, don’t you think?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Good point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sorry.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Good answer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So,
what do you think I want you to do right now?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Uh…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>nothing?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Probably forgive her?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Another winner!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Very
good!”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“But I don’t want to look like a chump that people can just
walk all over!”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“You realize you’re the only one who thinks that right? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is literally no one else around who
thinks that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everyone else who is
thinking anything about it is irritated at her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She’s making her own trouble right now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She’s not even aware she did anything wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’ll figure it out soon enough.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Got it.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’m always amazed at how much dialogue God can fit into one
second.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So, I let it go, and felt better about it.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When I got to the register the clerk asked how I was doing
today, and I replied, <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Not bad, how about you?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I’m doing well,” she said, “but I get a little irritated
when people feel entitled like that one.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">(God: See?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Told you,
didn’t I?)<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I know, me too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
guess everyone has their issues.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just
decided not to make hers, mine this time.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In the grand scheme of things this was a very minor incident.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A drop in the bucket of my entire life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There have been so many times in my past
where I have taken some small thing and replayed in my mind to make a bigger
issue, and then justify my anger about it because, “it’s the principal of the
thing!”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I was stupid.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">My principles are there to guide <i>my</i> life, and <i>my</i>
actions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are not to be forced on
others.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When I removed the anger from my thoughts in that moment it
created a vacuum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I internally expected
some kind of response, so I chose to replace it with kindness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And that made all the difference.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">My body relaxed, my thinking cleared (because my thought
processes were definitely muddled right then) and the rest of my day followed a
much better path that it would have if this had not been pointed out to me.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I will be faced with these choices again and again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope to have many more years to practice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There will be incidents of far greater
importance to use it.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’m not saying that God wants me to allow others to walk all
over me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will always defend myself and
others when necessary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are sometimes
faced with unnecessary, and sometimes relentless, cruelty which we must all
fight against.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The questions this raises for me is this:<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Why is kindness difficult?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Why isn’t it my first response?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When someone is kind to me, it gives me joy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The kindness of others tells me that at some
level I have worth in their eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
shows me that they are willing to expend some effort, some part of their own
value, to increase mine - whether it’s someone I know well, or someone in
passing who I’ll never see again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
comes with no strings, and at no cost to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When I practice kindness with others, it actually enriches
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I’m kind to you, you are kind to
another, and eventually it becomes contagious enough that changes can occur
around you.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Our society seems to have abandoned any pretense of kindness
for our self-interest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We seek justice
for ourselves against those who offend us, but only justice by each person’s
own definition.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We easily forget that, from
a Biblical perspective, justice and mercy are a package deal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Justice comes with forgiveness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is how we survive together, and yet in
recent years we have chosen so many times to completely abandon any pretense of
compassion, even within the church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
attack each other and end relationships over what should be simple
disagreements which have instead been turned into life and death arguments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mean, seriously, did you think if you
profess love for someone, you will never disagree with them?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is that all your friends are: clones of
you?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you only love those who are like
yourself – well, maybe you should look up the definition of narcissism.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Who did Jesus argue with and attack?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The religious leaders of the time who lorded
their authority over those they deemed less worthy than themselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The ones who effectively cut everyone else
off from God.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Who did He love and spend time with and forgive?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everyone else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every sinner who the religious leaders
refused to see, or hear, or touch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
worst of the worse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The ones the
Pharisees reviled are the ones Jesus loved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Me.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">To be clear - He loved the Pharisees as well, but He hated
what they were doing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He really loves
everyone, regardless of how I or you feel about them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No one gets to be the gatekeeper for access
to God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The application of that in real
life is me being compassionate to those who need it, rather than only a
specific subset of society that I somehow deem worthy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God is above our societal norms and traditions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jesus never identified Himself as conservative
or liberal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think any label I tried to
apply to Him would make Him roll His eyes as He turned to talk to someone I
disliked or vehemently disagreed with the most (whoever that happened to be at
the moment).<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He asks us to love our neighbor.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Who is my neighbor?” we ask.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He answers with the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke
10:25-37), and the neighbor was “<b><i>the one who showed him mercy</i></b>.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He asks us to love our enemies. (Luke 6:27-36)<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It seems ironic to me that no one asked, “who is my enemy?”,
because we already have that figured out, don’t we?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We seem to find enemies everywhere
nowadays.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All it takes is to find
someone we disagree with.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He asks us to lay down our lives for a friend (John 15:13)<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It stands to reason that my enemy, once I learn to love
them, could be my friend, and then we may be asked to lay down our lives for
those who were once our enemies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is it
really worth it to hate a person or group so much that it kills you?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He asks us to honor one another, and to outdo each other in
honoring each other! (Romans 12:10)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Am I doing that?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Are
you?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I have in the past been rather politically “adamant” in my
views.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I went along with the group that
held similar views who claimed we were “right”, and everyone else was
“wrong”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyone who disagreed with any
single part of our thinking was automatically pushed out in the cold and
labeled the “enemy”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because they didn’t
agree with everything the other side espoused, they were not accepted there
either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were left to be victims in
the crossfire of ideological warfare.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Because I am a Christian, I obviously had God on my side, so
the people I looked up to must be speaking the truth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, I prayed for the salvation of those "outsiders" so they
would vote the way I thought they should.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But then…<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I found myself examining what Jesus actually taught about how
to treat others, and found some pretty glaring differences between His
teaching, and mine.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I became more vocal about those differences, and many of those who I’ve
known and loved for years, and who I still love, pushed me out into the cold
“in-between” of their own fears where I had to try to protect myself and my
family from <b><i>both </i></b>sides.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Ironically it was when I started talking about not hating
each other, and loving our enemies, that I found myself pushed out of my
"tribe".<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have discovered – much
to my surprise – that this is not the wasteland I was led to believe it was,
but more like the “land of milk and honey” that I always sought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just never really thought to look for it
here.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’ve had cause to wonder lately – if Christ came today –
would we listen to Him and live as He asks, or would we crucify Him?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Listening to some of the things I’ve heard from folks lately
who say they follow Him; I think there are many who might be willing to pound the
nails.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because they don’t necessarily
follow Him, but only their own idea of what He should be in their opinion. It seems as though many have given up reading what He actually said.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I think most of the people who say they would die for a
cause, or man, today (other than our military and police who have already made
that very real commitment), are lying to themselves and the rest of us just to
try to drum up support, because they don’t really believe they’ll be asked to
make that choice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think faced with the
threat of death they would change their minds in a heartbeat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They might be willing to die, or even kill,
for their family, but for a mere cause?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s just bravado.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Because hypocrites and martyrs die the same.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The sacrifice of my life guarantees no one's salvation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Are you willing to die for someone who isn’t
even aware of your existence, and no longer be with your family?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Are you that selfish?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Even my God doesn’t tell me who to hate, so why would I
listen to a politician doing just that then?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">You want a real example of sacrifice and commitment?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Look at Jesus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
forgave the ones who killed him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>While
they were killing Him.</i><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I have found that there is an insurmountable difference
between clinging to the Cross, and being the One nailed to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I so desperately needed Him to be pinned
there.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Remember that it was His own people that He came to save
that demanded that He die.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Remember all this as you seek to foment rebellion, all the
while claiming to follow the Prince of Peace. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And yes, all this came up just because some lady cut in
front of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Life lessons are everywhere, I guess.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">©Dan Bode 2023<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Dan-ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498485884852538560noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6222880919962709217.post-68809564448695571262023-04-09T09:04:00.001-07:002023-04-09T09:04:13.855-07:00Easter Fishing<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal">Occasionally I make some very important realizations about
my life. Sometimes someone says
something to me that sets off some line of thought that seems completely random
at the time, but turns into something significant to me. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There are other times when it seems like a boulder just gets
dropped on me out of a clear blue sky, and I have no choice but to drop
whatever I’m doing and deal with it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Regardless of how they come to me they are usually things that in
retrospect are pretty obvious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were
there all along but I simply never noticed them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was one of those things.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I realized one day that even the mere presence of Christ
will change anything.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I think the apostle Peter was familiar with what I am
talking about.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In John chapter 21 Peter is dealing with the aftermath of
the Crucifixion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has no hope.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The one he gave everything to is dead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With the death of his future he returns to
his past.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I am going out to fish.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He trudges down the beach and begins to run the strands of
the nets he hasn’t touched for three years listlessly through his fingers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before Christ (B.C.) this was what he always
did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Up until he’d heard those two
fateful words “Follow <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:state w:st="on">me.</st1:state></st1:place>”
these nets had been the source of his well being, his sustenance, his pride,
his provision for his family and his heritage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He knew little else.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In the intervening years he saw the dead raised to life,
water turned to wine, and lepers healed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>One miracle after another had been performed in his presence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Pharisees and Sadducees, the powers of
his society, had been repeatedly challenged and shown to be the greatest of
hypocrites.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The foundations of his life
have been completely changed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But even
with all these things the greatest change is what has happened within. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Peter made the sacrifice of believing in someone other than
himself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In moving the focus of his belief he had done things at the
request of He in whom he believed, and he did it regardless of his own agreement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In so many ways his motivation has been to
satisfy his own dreams, but now he comes to understand the root of his
problem.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Belief in someone other than
yourself is only half of the process.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The other half demands blind dependence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Peter believed in someone else, but he believed in Him because he
thought the other would accomplish Peter’s own desires.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So belief is one thing, but devotion requires
taking on the beliefs and desires of the object of your belief as your
own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Peter, as is often the case in my
own life, had not done this.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Now, without Christ, he seems to have lost it all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Having believed in someone else, yet still
applying his own conditions for believing, making Jesus merely a vehicle to
reach his own goals, he has not only lost everything, but he has failed himself
as well as Jesus.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Imagine climbing in the boat and setting the oars, using
muscles gone stiff after years of inactivity and thinking <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">all I can do is fish</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Without purpose, without Jesus, he simply went back to what
he knew.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The problem was that now,
having known the ultimate reason for existence, this basic fundamental task
could no longer provide any meaning to what was left of his life. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Into this situation Jesus becomes Present to him.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He becomes the Truth.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Throw your nets on the other side of the boat.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Only a slight change from what he’d been doing just moments
before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At this point he hadn’t yet
realized that it was Jesus who was speaking to him, but he did it anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What do you suppose he thought at that moment?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The local fishing industry hadn’t changed in the
time he had been away from it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He knew
what he was doing, but there on the shore is some side-line fisherman who tells
him to throw the net on the other side of the boat?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He knows there aren’t going to be any more
fish on one side than the other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still,
he does it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His pain is such that he
needs something to fill the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
needs something to fill the hole left by the absence of his Rabbi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">What did he have to lose?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He was just fishing after all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When
the nets began to fill and as the individual strands began to break as one fish
upon another threw themselves into the net he realized something had
changed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was the change that caused
him to realize that the voice he’d heard just a moment ago was the same one
he’d heard agonizing in prayer in the garden at <st1:place w:st="on">Gethsemane</st1:place>.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It was then that he realized just how much the presence of
Christ changes the meaning of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">everything</i>
we do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He was only doing what he had always done, but it would
never be the same for him again.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As a result of Christ’s birth, the properties of giving
birth changed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When a baby entered into
the world from the womb it was something that had happened countless times
before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Christ was born as every child
had been born, and yet <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">His</i> birth was
the one that negated the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">cause</i> of the
mother’s pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His birth gave meaning to
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The betrayal of trust that occurred
in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Eden</st1:city></st1:place> was now
surmountable as a result of His birth in this world.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Even the act of crucifixion was changed.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The Romans had been crucifying criminals for quite some time
before Christ walked the Via Dolorosa, and they continued for a long time
afterwards.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But with Christ involved it
was more than merely a form of painful execution. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Christ gave it <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">purpose</b>.<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">His impact and influence was so complete when it happened to
Him that even to unbelievers it was forever after known as <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The</i></b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> Crucifixion.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is no
longer spoken of even in our day without summoning to our thoughts the name of
Jesus Christ.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pilate would never have
given a second thought to nailing another set of hands to that beam, and in
fact would have willingly given the mob its desire if they had asked for
Barabbas to be killed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Even Pilate knew somehow that Christ changes <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">everything</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Even he knew that crucifying Christ would have unimaginable ramifications.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Christ was not the first person to be resurrected
either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He himself raised several people
from the dead, but as extraordinary as any resurrection should be considered,
no one ever thinks of them when we say <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The</i></b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> Resurrection</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">No one else was sacrificed first.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Two travelers on the road to Emmaus were just traveling
together until Jesus joined them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When
He spoke they knew He was someone who knew what He was talking about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That simple journey completely altered the
course of their lives, not because of the journey, but because of the One on
the road beside them.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sad to say that <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">knowing</i>
it is not the same as <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">living</i> it, but
I think Peter, when he made it to shore, had finally figured out the difference
between what he had been doing for the previous three years and what he was
doing now, dripping wet on the shore in front of the living Christ.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think he stood before Christ re-examining
every thought or action he had taken during the last three years knowing that
all of his previous ideas were utterly <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">wrong</i>.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It is one thing to nod your head and smile when someone
says, “I will rise again on the third day after my death.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is a completely different matter when you
meet Him after He has indeed done what He said He would do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The thought, “You mean you were serious?!” must have crossed
his mind at some point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Peter suddenly <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">had</i> to believe everything he had only paid
lip service to previously.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All of the
things that he had believed for his own benefit now had a completely different
meaning that was no longer based on his own needs and desires.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Overthrown oppressors were no longer an issue
when the living Christ was sitting in front of him frying fish on the
seashore!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Come to think of it I’ll bet
He even fried fish better!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wonder if
he understood then that after three years with Jesus Christ, without Him Peter
was not after all a better fisherman than before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Without Jesus he was merely the same, but now
he understood what he longed for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Now he knew what he was missing.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I want to know how Peter remembered that day.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">What did the rest of the world look like to him after he
realized that <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">all</i> that Christ said
was true?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Could the truth of anything
Christ said be doubted if He could overcome the worst enemy of humanity?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Nope.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Suddenly, he needs to worship Him; to give Him something.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But what do you give to the One who has everything?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Everything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Everything you are, everything you will be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Everything you have, and everything you ever had.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Every desire, and every dislike.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Every relationship, and every preconceived notion.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Everything good, and everything bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">All of it.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Everything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Because it’s all changed, and He’s the one who did it.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It doesn’t matter whether you want the change or not,
because the creation itself has been fundamentally changed by awaiting His
return.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Expectation with which my
very soul trembles changes how I look at Everything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And at what cost?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">A virgin birth, a crucifixion, a death, a stone rolled away,
a resurrection.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Replace the “A” in the previous sentence with “The” and you
know exactly who is being spoken of without ever saying His name, but then we
say it anyway, because the name of Jesus Christ sounds so much better than any
other words that ever passed our lips before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And the fact that <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">He
lives</i> changes….<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Everything!<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">©Dan Bode 2007<o:p></o:p></p>Dan-ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498485884852538560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6222880919962709217.post-66124210071008116672022-12-24T13:29:00.002-08:002022-12-24T13:29:36.941-08:00Christmas Day of His Appearing<p> This was the day of His appearance in this world.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Pain,<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Water, <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Blood,<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Relief<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>Joy</i>.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But He had really been here for nine months already.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Listening.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I wonder what the reaction of Creation must have looked like
at the moment He was born, <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">looking like <i>us</i>!<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Did the stars dim as He filled His lungs for His first cry?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Did the wind sigh with relief and welcome?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Did every blade of grass long to bear the weight of His
first step?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Did the hay in the manger conform to His shape as though it
was made just to cradle this babe?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Whenever I think of Him physically present in our world I am
wracked with wonder.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">My questions are endless, <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But those answers have to wait, <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Because He came first to answer all the others that saved my
life.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So, I am sustained by my wonder and awe, <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And if the creation itself sings for joy at His presence,<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Who am I to remain silent?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>REJOICE</i>!<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">©Dan Bode 2022<o:p></o:p></p>Dan-ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498485884852538560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6222880919962709217.post-90056999788906769052022-09-29T22:12:00.001-07:002022-09-29T22:13:57.438-07:00Colors<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">I made some discoveries about colors
recently. It kind of freaks me out a little.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">A few years ago, when we first bought
our home, we were in the process of making it ours. One aspect of that process
was painting. A sub-category of painting is choosing the colors.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">The concept of color selection has
taken on a whole new meaning for me since we started perusing the countless
color swatches at the home improvement stores. To put this in perspective
I need you to understand that I grew up with the primary color range that I
used to identify every color. It didn’t matter if it was light green or
dark green, it was just green to me. Then Crayola came out with the BIG
box of 64 crayons with the built-in sharpener and I was overwhelmed. To
top it all off they changed the names of the colors!! <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">Blue was blueberry, red was
strawberry, and yellow was lemon, and I became convinced that they were edible
since fruit was the major theme in the naming convention. I’d heard of
kids eating crayons before, and I think this is how it started. I’m
willing to bet when they changed “flesh” to “peach” the child Hannibal Lecter
was pretty upset. <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">Then they started mixing them and I
was exposed to “taupe”, and “mauve”, and others that I couldn’t describe
because I was too much of a purist to understand the concept! I was just
trying to stay in the lines!! Why did I have to coordinate?!<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">I remember an incident as a child
when my family was going to Las Vegas to visit my godparents. I had a
plastic container of about 20 crayons which I put on the rear
dashboard. <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">Inside the window. <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">As we drove through the desert. <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">Now crayons, being wax, have certain well-defined
shapes when they are kept in the proper environment. This was a
questionable environment for crayons.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">As we drove through the Nevada desert
with the sun beating down on the rear window, as though Lucifer’s eyeball was
having a staring contest with our car, I got bored. I got out my coloring
book and reached for the container of crayons.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">In a word it was “psychedelic”.
All the crayons had melted and mixed together! This was the 60’s and the
term “psychedelic” had a very particular meaning for some people then, but this
was the first time I was able to apply it to any situation that occurred in my
world. I think it was about this time that when people asked me what I
wanted to be when I grew up, I started saying, “I want to be a hippy!” My
dad didn’t seem pleased.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">Now I’m finding out things about
colors that never occurred to me. We wanted the walls in our new home to
be a certain color, and have one wall another color as an accent. I knew
about, and understood, this concept, but had never really done anything with it
in the past. <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">Off we went to the hardware emporium
of the world to get the samples we needed. First, you stop at the “Walls
of Colors”. There are little paper swatches of colors, and then there are
bigger swatches with multiple colors, and then there are little booklets that
show different color combinations, and then there are even BIGGER booklets with
pages of little color boxes that show you the whole range of colors! And of
course, each paint manufacturer has a wall all to themselves, AND they rename
all the same colors to something different because of course they can’t match
the same color name as their competitor, can they?! I bet there’s
actually a department in each company devoted to coming up with color
names! And I’ll also bet they hired them from the crayon company!<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">Once we found a suitable collection
of choices, we went to the counter to have samples made. “Sample” is a
word that has very different meanings depending on the product in
question. I was looking at countertops several years ago at a
stonecutter’s shop and he asked if I needed samples. When I said yes, he
went over to this huge slab of granite and broke a piece off! Paint
samples are a small jar of paint that could probably cover half a wall!
So anyway, we take the samples home and start painting different colored
squares on various walls.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">My wife has a very well-developed
skill in decorating. When she says something will look good I have long
since ceased to question her choices no matter how weird they may sound to
me. It always works no matter what she does. I don’t really
understand it, but I really don’t have to understand it because I trust her
implicitly since she hasn’t tried to dress me in funny clothes. Not yet
anyway.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">She painted a color that seemed like
“white” to me on the wall. The wall she painted it on looked “white” as
well. Until she painted the sample on it. Now the white wall looked
“more white”. Then she painted some of the sample paint on the darker
accent wall and the “white” sample looked yellow!!!<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">“Hey! Now it’s yellow!” I
cried in amazement.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">“No, it's still white. You just
see it as yellow next to the other color. It’s all about perception
honey.” She replied. <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">Then she put other samples on other
walls and they looked different because of the way the light hit them at
different times of the day! <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">Consider my mind blown. <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">But now I, being me, couldn’t just
leave it alone. I started applying it to myself.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">I started to wonder how my life is
perceived in relation to my environment. (Stop with the metaphors!!
Stop it now!) I can’t help it. Sorry. (I often argue with myself in
my head. It’s the only place where I always win.)<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">Anyway, I started to look at myself
in a different way. I began to wonder what I look like or how I am
perceived by other people. If I’m always the “real me” in different
environments then I will sometimes provide a contrast to my surroundings.
If I become a people pleaser then no one sees me any differently because I
change to match everyone else’s viewpoint. I become a chameleon.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">The problems with this are
legion. <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">Eventually I wind up lying to someone
about who I am. Maybe not straight out lying, but often by agreeing with
someone just so they feel good about me even though I may actually oppose their
view is actually a lie. The real kicker here is that while I want to be
everyone’s friend, I am assuming that to be their friend we must agree on
everything, but true friendship needs to be based on truth, so by falsely
agreeing with someone I become a false friend. I have dishonored that
person by allowing them to become friends with a mask I wore.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">It usually begins with an effort to
avoid conflict. In my desire to create a friendship I neglect my need to
be myself rather than being myself to satisfy my need for friendship. I
can’t be a true friend unless I can do it honestly. That means that I
can’t always be someone’s friend if they require my constant agreement. <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">I discovered some time ago that
“agreement” and “understanding” are not interchangeable concepts.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">There is no way to be a true friend
by always agreeing with everyone. Others have to be able to know who I
really am, if I’m going to be their friend. <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">Sometimes, when I tell someone about
the events of my life, they respond emotionally and say something like, “You’re
such a good man!” or “You’re so strong now!” or some other praise. I
often hesitate to say anything anymore because I don’t want people to think I’m
saying it as some kind of proof of my stalwartness or something. The
honest fact of the matter is that I’m just a guy who this stuff happened
to. I’m not special for it, or better than anyone else, just because it
happened to me. I don’t have any greater authority than I ever did
before. What I do have is experience in survival, which, while valuable,
still does not add to my intrinsic value as a person. I tried the whole
“bitterness and depression” thing, but I can tell you honestly that it didn’t
give me anything good. It took years to claw my way out of that
pit. No, the only qualities I have in anyone else’s life are whatever
that person perceives me to have for themselves. I can only be myself,
but what they do with it is up to them. <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">My real value does not change, like
colors, based on someone else’s perspective. I have chosen to acknowledge
the authority of my Creator, and listen to Him express His opinion of my
worth. His opinion of me never changes, regardless of what I do or the
situation I get myself into. I daily fail to live up to His standards of
me in some way, but He never stops loving me nor does my value in His eyes
decrease. Unlike the patches of color on our walls, that seemed to change
in different light, He sees me the same all the time regardless of any mask I
wear.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">When I start to acknowledge and
appreciate His love for me, I am forced to examine my life to see if I’m
treating others the same way He treats me. I have discovered too many
moments where His love for me is not reflected in my treatment of others at
all. I now realize that we all have the ability to care for other people
and still be ourselves, but we have to make the choice to exercise that
ability. <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">So, I’m making that choice. I
choose to seek in you what there is to love, and not to hate.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">What you do with that is up to you.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">©Dan Bode 2022</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">
<!--[endif]--></span><o:p></o:p></p>Dan-ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498485884852538560noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6222880919962709217.post-10884857505140741862021-04-03T11:22:00.000-07:002021-04-03T11:22:49.713-07:00Doubt<p>I think about Thomas sometimes.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">What do we really know about him?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All I was ever taught was that he was the
“doubter”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Doubting Thomas” were his
first and last names as far as I knew for most of my life.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We love labels don’t we?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I suppose humans always have.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
tend to categorize everything in some way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Maybe it just helps us remember.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It seems odd though, doesn’t it, that we would label a man’s
entire life based on one event out of all his days?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Granted, the fact that he was doubting God
has something to do with the importance of the event.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’ve said this before, but I think it bears repeating – I have
often wondered if, after three years of Jesus teaching the disciples through
parable and allegory, that after He died and rose again – I have to wonder if
at least one of the disciples didn’t think, “You mean you were <i>serious</i>?!”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But here’s the thing: Thomas wasn’t the only doubter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, when Thomas finally saw the
resurrected Jesus, the others had already seen Him a week earlier, and they
were still locking the doors!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was in
a locked room full of people who were scared to go out into the world <i>because
they were doubtful of God as well</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Go figure.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And, of course, now that I think about it, I doubt Him too
sometimes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every day in fact.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Every moment of worry I experience is a moment of doubt,
because I’m choosing <i>not</i> to apply the belief that He actually cares so
much for me that He will keep me close to Him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Every time I choose not to forgive someone, or accept forgiveness, is a
refusal to accept His sacrifice for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And He forgives <i>me</i> for it every stinking time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Thomas was a man who was willing to die with Jesus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In one instance he urges all of the disciples
to go with Jesus so “we may die with Him.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That sounds like a devoted man to me.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So yes, Thomas doubted, and it was <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">his</i> doubt which Jesus used to point out that the importance of
belief in Him <i>without</i> seeing Him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Jesus was pointing out the level of faith required to trust Him <i>based
on the word of those who know Him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sure, Thomas doubted, but he also believed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This wasn’t the first time they had witnessed a resurrection
either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The most famous was Lazarus, but
there were others as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The obvious
difference was that those were things Jesus had done for others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was the source.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They <i>all</i> doubted that He could, or
would, do it for Himself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They had
walked into this with the idea that Jesus was there to liberate them from an
oppressive government.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their understanding
of the role of the Messiah was limited to their current circumstances, much as
it is today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All they saw up to this
point was their loss of a leader.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
fact that He was there among them was proof that <i>He didn’t come to do what
we want the way we want it done</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So, Thomas was there to voice my own doubts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thomas was there to touch the unhealed wounds
of a physically resurrected Jesus for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Thomas was there to hear Him say,<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Oh yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was most
definitely serious.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">©Dan Bode 2021<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Dan-ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498485884852538560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6222880919962709217.post-57291621150014057312021-01-14T06:36:00.001-08:002021-01-14T09:37:06.473-08:00Wake up Calls<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal">Every once in a while, I get a piece of information that
gives me reason to pause.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I hear about someone I know who is seriously ill, died, or
has had some serious life event occur.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It makes me re-examine my own life and values.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It jars me out of any ruts I find myself in,
and offers me a way to view everything in my life, and the world in general,
from an altered perspective.</p><p class="MsoNormal">The thing is, up to now, my reaction has always been to the events
that occur in the lives of others.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This time it’s me.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Several months ago, I walked into my doctor’s office, and he
told me I have cancer.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This was not what I wanted to hear.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Then he said, “If you’re going to have cancer, then this is
the one you want.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Hmm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ok.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not quite sure how to deal with that, but in
dealing with friends who have had more aggressive forms of cancer I have to say
this is a better statement than the alternatives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It turns out that this is the slowest growing
of cancers you can come up with, but the treatment for it is to remove my
thyroid gland and be done with it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
guess I should be ok with that.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Don’t get me wrong, I’m very happy it’s not worse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I truly feel that God was in on how they
found it by “accident” on another scan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This is not a death sentence by any means.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As I have told people about it, I’ve made a point of quickly
letting them know that I’m going to be ok, and there’s nothing to worry
about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Keep in mind that I can say this
because I’ve already processed all the initial fear, shock, and bottom-dropping-out-from-under-me
feelings, and found that I understand the truth of my situation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know this is not like what family and
friends of mine have dealt with.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It makes me pause.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Cancer is not as much of a threat as it was, even 20 years
ago, however, the affect it had on so many of those I have loved in my lifetime
has shaped my initial reaction to hearing about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is not to minimize the seriousness of
being diagnosed with it, by any means.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’m merely pointing out that in many cases we have reached a point where
a cure is possible in more cases than previously, and it took me a while to get
to that point in my own case because of how it was defined in my life.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">My first reaction was, “How am I going to tell my wife and
kids?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’ll start crying because of
something I said!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I really can’t stand
the thought of something I do or say causing someone pain (unless it’s someone
who hurts someone I love – I have no problem causing <i>them</i> pain).<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As I began to delve deeper into this, I started to think
about all the people I have known who have been diagnosed with a life-threatening
illness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought about how they
reacted to their diagnosis, and the difference in how I reacted to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The difference in perspective between us was
profound, but now I am beginning to see the “how” and “why” of the
difference.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now I see the staggering
need to bring the two perspectives together as one.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Upon discovering that a family member or friend was dying,
my initial reaction has been a form of denial based on my overconfidence in
medical science.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Ok, but there’s a treatment for it right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sure, you’ll have some problems, but then
you’ll get through it and everything will be back to some kind of normal right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There’s something I can do to fix this isn’t
there?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I also attribute this reaction to basic human selfishness
that wonders, “How will this affect me?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>What will I do without you?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How
do I fill the hole you leave?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s
sadly difficult to miss all the “I” and “me” statements there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Eventually I would reach a point where I shifted my focus
off of myself and listened to them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They would
start to talk about the things that are “really” important, and all these
“really” important things are not the things <i>I</i> “really” care about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They would talk about loving others,
forgiving others, and resolving conflicts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>All the things I didn’t have time for and would get to “someday”, when I
wouldn’t have to live with the idea of giving up my own desire for “one upping”
the other in order to forgive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But they were at peace, and I was not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was always easier to follow the crowd, and
have the same need to hold on to things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was always easier to put my faith in tangibles, or worldly concepts
like “rights” or “fairness” or “justice”, while ignoring their opposites of
“mercy”, “forgiveness” and “grace”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So,
when I got my own diagnostic “gift”, I began to examine the reason I could hear
them all talk about what was really important, and agree with them in the
moment, yet go back to living my life the mediocre way I always had.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There are consequences to forgiveness, and they are usually
peaceful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why was I so set to avoid
that?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why was I always so desperate to
hold on to my own ambition?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I remember an incident many years ago, when there was a division
in the church I was attending. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was
having a profound effect on the congregation, and I was in the midst of
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the same time there was a young
woman there who had died of cancer, leaving behind a loving husband and a
couple of children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember her as
being one of the kindest people I knew, and her husband was the same.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At her memorial service her husband shared
some thoughts that she had wanted him to convey to everyone, and at one point
he said words to this effect, “Sandy knew there is a big conflict going on in
the church right now, and she wanted to say that we need to forgive each other,
and that it’s really not the important thing.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I remember that moment thinking, “It’s not that simple.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is more at stake here.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was so caught up in my own pride and anger
that I refused to see the deeper meaning that God kept trying to point out to
me in my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was so caught up in the
“mundanity” and societal anger of the moment that I actually refused to
consider any viewpoint other than my own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I assumed that God agreed with me, and did not need to consult Him about
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As time went on, we left the church, the division ran its
course, and the pastor involved left.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
eventually came back to that church under a different pastor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The division had been healed, but I never
shook the feeling that I was wrong in my participation in the problem.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I eventually came to understand where I had
gone wrong, and years later I contacted the pastor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I submitted myself to him and asked his
forgiveness, and he was incredibly gracious to me in granting it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We restored our fellowship and became friends
again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It wasn’t until I had been
forgiven – which, by the way, he had granted to me long before I had asked –
that I thought back to Sandy’s plea to see what was really important.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Finally, I caught a glimpse of what she
saw.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All of my anger at the time of the
division had accomplished nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All
of the blinders I wore at the time kept me from living a peaceful life<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sandy saw what was needed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was love.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I believe there is beauty to be seen in everyone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God created our very eyes to be cognizant of
the beauty He placed all around us, in the people and things of His creation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had largely chosen to ignore His view, and
opted for the myopic sight of my own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I believe that hate is not the opposite of love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would posit to you that hate is more
accurately defined as the desire to contain, consume and damage the beauty
found in another, due to my failure to admit that God created each of us with inherent
beauty which in turn inspires His love for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I believe that love is a product of the recognition of God’s
beauty in each other.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Beauty is found in every life, and in how I choose to spend mine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It is found in the joy of a child.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In the compassion of an adult.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In the grace of an athlete or artist.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In the life, and sometimes death, of a soldier, or anyone
else, who lays down their life to save another.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In forgiving others who <i>don’t want</i> my forgiveness.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I have cancer, but it is not going to kill me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, it did shift the axis on which my
world spins.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For most of us I think it
is fairly reasonable to say that when we hear “cancer”, we first think of it as
a death sentence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have known others
who have been diagnosed with drastically worse forms of cancer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have watched many of them die.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Almost without fail they have each discovered
something in the process that I now realize I only gave lip service to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I never, until now, began to understand the
depth of the knowledge they gained.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The lesson they all seemed to point to was this:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing I ever wanted, or thought I needed,
or that the world told me I need to believe, or anything (or anyone) I sought
to control or possess, was ever worth more than being able to see the beauty in
the life of another.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This sight gives me
the opportunity to find something to love in everyone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each of them said they wished they would have
lived their lives as though that were the greatest truth.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Someone told me I had cancer, and I started to let go of my
own needs, wants, desires, and conceptions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I went back and started looking with my new eyes at what God was really
saying, and I found it was very different from what the politicians and many
church leaders were telling me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The difference now is that since I’m not dying, but truly
choosing to look at my life as though I am, I have a greater awareness of, and
a more effective idea of how, I should spend that one life I’ve been given.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I was asleep, and now… I’m awake.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">©Dan Bode 2021<o:p></o:p></p>Dan-ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498485884852538560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6222880919962709217.post-87438115542333500502020-06-17T20:31:00.001-07:002020-06-17T20:32:08.877-07:00Say His Name<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
What does it mean when a man says, “I can’t breathe”?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The air that sustains all of us cannot reach his lungs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They cannot inflate to extract the infusion
of oxygen that we are all created to live on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When he says, “I can’t breathe” he is expressing a longing to live.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then I see why he can’t breathe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another man has his knee bearing most of his
weight on the neck of the man on the ground.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The man on the ground is black, the man with his knee on his neck is
white.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The man on top is a police officer.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The man on the ground is black.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That’s all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just
black.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now he’s dead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Because of a white man’s knee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Because he’s black.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That picture is the epitome of the relationship between the
white and black races in America.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Oppression due to perceived difference, based on fear, because of
perceived difference.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If the picture was
black and white, and I had been told it was 100 years ago I would probably have
said something to the effect that, “Fortunately we’ve come a long way from
that.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It isn’t from 100 years ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s less than a month old as I write this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I made that statement in front of a black
man he would have laughed in my face, and rightly so.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This man wasn’t doing anything at all that warranted him
being arrested or detained, let alone killed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is extensive video evidence of the entire episode that clearly
shows his lack of resistance.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It should never be acceptable that any person feels a threat
to his or her life for simply walking out the front door of their home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To fill up the car at a gas station.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To drive down any street.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To jog in the evening. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To stand in their own driveway talking.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because he or she is black.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m white, and while I am not specifically responsible for
the way the black man is treated based on the behaviors of my forefathers, I am
present now. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This makes me responsible
for seeking change in the society of the present.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My crime is my silence.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Since this man died, I’ve read and heard countless stories
of what a kind and peaceful man he became, and how he did so much to work with
the youth in violent neighborhoods teaching them to live better lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve also seen stories of his criminal record,
and that he had drugs in his system.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I have a question:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Why is it even necessary that he should have to have a “good life story”
to make this a horrifying event?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why do
we feel it necessary to justify his life?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>On the other side of that, how does showing a past criminal record have
anything to do with the events leading up to, and the moment of, his
death.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This would have been just as
horrifying if it had been someone else - “just a normal guy” – because he’s
black.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No, George Floyd was not a saint, and neither is anyone else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, he did some things very wrong in the
past, like many of us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But none of that
mattered one way or the other in the moment that he should <i>not</i> have
died.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>George Floyd did <i>not</i> resist,
right up to the moment of his death.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
didn’t struggle violently.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn’t
even curse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I keep wondering what he was
thinking in this whole process.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As he
struggled to move in a way that would allow any breath at all, and as I watched
the police officer dig his knee even harder into his neck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I watched again as they taunted him to get up
while he was pinned down by three officers while he did not struggle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Was he thinking, “I keep telling these kids
they need to seek change peacefully, so I have to keep it together.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then as the situation progressed, with his
lungs demanding oxygen, “Keep it together, everyone is watching.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Be the example.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then again as he faded out and died, “Please
make it worth it.”, and finally, “Mama, Mama.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m white.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel
relatively safe in my world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know
there are those out there that might threaten my life at any random time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I think about them, I don’t think about
the color of their skin, and I never have to imagine that it might be a police
officer.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I’m white.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Through this event many other events and processes have been
triggered.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Protests have swept the country, many with riots where
property was destroyed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ironically, most
of the rioters appear to be white.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some from
Antifa, some from white supremacist groups, but all simply trying to sow more
violence for their own ends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
protestors have, for the most part, been peaceful and are honestly trying to
take this opportunity to help us see the need for change from their perspective.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Police across the country have sought to support the Black
community, sometimes even marching with them as they protest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They detest what the officers involved did,
and they have promised change.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They always walk a very fine line, but more so right
now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Under threat for something they
didn’t collectively do, but nonetheless having to deal with the responsibility
for it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Doing their jobs and wondering
if they will die for it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It seems ironic as I look at that statement that it may be a
similar situation for the average black man in America.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They walk a fine line as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are under threat when they walk out of
their house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some, like Breonna Taylor,
didn’t even have to get out of bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So,
a black person has to wonder on a daily basis if they will die for being
black.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All this because their skin is a different color.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being black is not a chosen profession.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They don’t have a choice in the color of their
skin, but again, why should that even make a difference?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>More disturbing to me is the way many people
I know have defended these deaths as legitimate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When they try to deflect the response by saying, “Where’s
the outrage because this other person died?” I just want to say, “Because no
one cared enough for him or her in their own community to be outraged about it.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is the fault of the community that didn’t
care enough for them to say something.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The black community cares for themselves, and that is not
wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are rightly outraged when
they lose a member of their community whether they were a criminal or a
saint.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We in the white community could stand
to learn something of that attitude.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But in the meantime, George Floyd is still just as dead as
he was yesterday, and somehow, all of us need to come together into a peaceful
union of hearts and minds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We need to
acknowledge the sins of our forefathers, and make this society of ours <i>right</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Change has to occur, and it is never
comfortable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is easier to identify
needed change in others, than it is to see the need in ourselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There’s a great deal more to say about this, but I’ll save
it for the next post.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There are an inordinate number of people who respond to
posts about this incident saying something like, “You need to take the log out
of your own eye before you try to take the speck out of someone else’s eye!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I honestly don’t see how that applies here,
but whenever I hear something like that (which, for the record, just makes you
sound incoherent) I just go back and watch George Floyd die again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No logs there.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Say his name!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
George Floyd.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
©Dan Bode 2020<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />Dan-ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498485884852538560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6222880919962709217.post-84394612340762099232020-05-29T11:13:00.001-07:002020-05-29T13:57:15.383-07:00Unprecedented times<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m going to give you fair warning here:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>what I’m about to write here will probably
offend just about everyone I know to one degree or another.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not an expert, and this is all just my
opinion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You don’t have to agree.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The thing is, your opinions are for the most
part inexpert as well, and we all quote or share videos of “experts” that only
support our current way of thinking, so there’s that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you don’t like it that’s fine with me,
I’ll still love you and we can still be friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you choose not to be friends after you
read it, then I suppose we weren’t really friends in the first place if that’s
all it takes to cut me off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This will
appear on my social media accounts because I get to express my opinion
there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will delete any comments that
appear that are disparaging to anyone or are attempting to argue, because I’m
simply not going to argue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not
giving that control to anyone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can
use your own space for that.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We live in “Unprecedented times”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve been hearing that a lot lately, but honestly, I think
it’s kind of a dumb thing to say.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every
day is new so isn’t it all unprecedented?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There’s a lot of stuff happening right now in the world that
is devastating to everyone to different degrees, and we have to learn to adjust
somehow in “unprecedented” ways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before
we do that, however, we have to understand the truth of what we are dealing
with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For some time now I’ve experienced a genuine sadness over
how we all as a people are treating each other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We have allowed ourselves to be divided by false information, rumor, and
even more minor issues to the point where there is nothing left to hold us
together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All that seems to matter is each
person’s individual desires with no regard to the impact they might have on the
life of any other human.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our politicians
tell us who and what to hate, and we should of course trust them because they
all have our best interests at heart (that’s sarcasm just to be clear).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Add to this the current slate of politicians
on both sides of the fence who use anything and everything to their advantage
for their personal gain, and who tell us they are doing it all for our benefit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And we eat it all up as though they actually
even know who we are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I hear the
things that politicians come up with to say about each other I feel like I’m
listening to 5-year-olds argue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not
singling out any party here either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This
is ALL of them!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What’s worse is we are
actually listening to and supporting them!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is the environment into which a virus is introduced.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One would think that something as serious as this is would
bring us together, but we’re already too far down the road of selfish ambition
to make it that easy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing is off
limits to political partisanship.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Instead of working together at a time when we need it most, when one
side does something good the other side can’t possibly admit it so they have to
do something the opposite and call it good instead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then the finger pointing starts and
everything comes to a standstill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everyone
caught in the middle suffers, all the while pointing fingers as well.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My point is this:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>our
political leaders are not special.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They
are not better than us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are human
too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They all do some things right, and
some things wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>None of them are all
good, or all bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I cut you off in
traffic one day, does that mean I’m a bad person?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No more than you are when you do the same
thing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In order to agree with one thing a politician does, I do not
have to agree with, or like, <i>everything</i> he/she does.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I actually have the ability to think for
myself and recognize the conflict I see with my own eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Open your own eyes and see what’s there for
yourself instead of just accepting everything you are told! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The outright stupidity that infects and divides us over this
is astounding. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Someone makes a statement like “Don’t live in fear”, and
someone else picks it up and makes it some ridiculous rallying cry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fear is a choice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can do the right thing and not live in
fear, but remember they are two different things that are not dependent on the
other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just because I choose to live in
a manner that you define as fearful, does not make it true that I live in
fear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It only proves that your opinion
of me is irrelevant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are merely
trying to manipulate me into living like you, who live in your anger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And anger is just an aggressive response to
fear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So tell me who’s really living in
fear then?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All you are trying to do is
gain strength in numbers to prove to yourself that you are “not afraid”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I don’t want politicians to tell me what
to think, why would I let anyone else have the right to tell me what I fear?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We’ve become too lazy to think for ourselves so we just keep
repeating the thoughts of others, with no effort to learn any facts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We simply accept the uneducated and/or untested
opinions that skip across our screens that reinforce our existing beliefs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When something different comes up, it is
simply ignored or attacked, and the person who posts it is now considered untrustworthy
or worse, an enemy.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve seen another trend where someone uses statistics from
other movements to deflect from the issue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Most of you who do this do not support those movements in any
substantive way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You don’t work with
them, you don’t give money to them, and when you get their emails you don’t
answer them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So how dare you hijack
their work to support your own misguided attempt at selfishly giving yourself
some credibility.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All you do is
undermine any sense of integrity you had to begin with.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There are a lot of things that have been done wrong, or at
the very least, inconsistently as we as a society have tried to deal with this
pandemic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even to the point of denying
its existence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let’s not forget that
this is a worldwide pandemic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s not
just here in America, but because we’ve made it a political issue instead of a
medical one, and put the idea of dealing with it into a political structure, we
are now dealing with it as though we’re children on a playground trying to avoid
cooties!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But here’s the thing: There are other diseases that we have
not encountered here in America and other First World societies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We need to acknowledge this and use the
situation we are now in as a way to recognize what we can change in order to
deal with future infections in a better way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The First World has no idea what to do with contagion, and we have lived
in blissful ignorance of the threat and call it “freedom”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, we reduce safe behaviors to “taking away
our rights” because we are truly selfish in this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are viruses developing and spreading
freely in Third World countries, they are mutating and becoming more
virulent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are untreated for the
simple reason that it is not profitable to develop a cure for a poor
country.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are ignored, but make no
mistake; they are still coming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There
have been warnings of an approaching pandemic for years now, we just didn’t
listen.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For this reason alone, we should at least be approaching the
need for a response to this as an experiment that requires that we follow the
prescribed patterns of behavior so we can find out the best ways to control it
and save our own lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead we fall
to the ground and wave our limbs uselessly and cry about the violation to our rights!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And people die, but instead of being
concerned about the deaths or infections we find another useless video made by
someone who wants to be an authority on something but isn’t, that we think
somehow justifies our existing point of view.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>For the record, it doesn’t justify anything, it only proves your willful
ignorance.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We treat reports of death as inconsequential so we can maintain
our ignorant bliss.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Do you actually know anyone who has died from this?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Even asking the question is just a reflection of ignorant selfishness,
because it wouldn’t change your existing view regardless of the answer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You would merely find some explanation that
made it acceptable to deny the cause.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh he/she had underlying conditions.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And that makes a difference how?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We shelter in place and practice social
distancing and wear masks to protect those that have the underlying conditions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a reminder, THIS IS NOT JUST ABOUT YOU!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s about everyone you know or come in
contact with!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I know someone who knows someone who died of cancer, but
they said they had to report it as a virus death.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There are actually verified reports of this happening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Again, many things are being done wrong as we
learn to respond to this threat appropriately.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When government is involved in anything the response is usually at best,
cumbersome and unwieldy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not an
advocate for government overreach in any way, but if we are going to get a
handle on this we need to make mistakes first and err on the side of
caution.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The more we know and understand
the better we can adjust to the reality of what we need to do.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“The guy in charge fired someone who was saying something he
didn’t like.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Again, how does this change the issue whether it’s true or
not?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is just following a persistent
pattern set by the politicians and media to launch personal attacks on someone
who is saying something we are simply too immature to hear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because, again, we have given up the ability
to think intelligently for ourselves.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is a worldwide issue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s not about American rights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s not about “OSHA regulations”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s not about “one world government”, or any other conspiracy you care
to name.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m going to take a moment to point out what should be obvious.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is a virus.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The virus doesn’t care how old you are.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The virus doesn’t care how famous you are.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The virus doesn’t care what race you are.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The virus doesn’t care how much money you make.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The virus doesn’t care what you think you know.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The virus doesn’t care what political party you belong to.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The virus doesn’t care about your rights.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The virus doesn’t care about your religion or faith.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The virus doesn’t care about anything.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The virus doesn’t have the ability to care, or emote about
anything at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a virus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It merely looks for an environment to thrive
in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That environment is you and me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I need people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I need
human contact.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Unfortunately, so does the virus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What I need, and do, for myself, could now
become a threat to the safety and well-being of others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s hard enough to accept this on a basic
level, but when we add political posturing to the process it completely
overshadows the reality of our situation.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I will go on to say that as a Christian, I am appalled and
ashamed of the way a significant portion of the Church has chosen to treat
others during this time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Both within and
without the Church body I have watched people being treated cruelly, and so viciously.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am completely disgusted by this behavior.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those who do this have simply put their
politics over their faith.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are
dictated to by hate rather than the Love of Christ, and it sickens me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To you I would say this:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Step out of your current thought structure
and re-examine your actions in light of what Jesus would really do!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Try to understand what Jesus meant when he
said, “Love your neighbor as yourself.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We are supposed to be <i>different</i>!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So many times, I have heard it said, “I follow God’s law not
man’s.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is commendable and I agree
with that statement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, you
completely undermine any credibility you may have engendered when you only
follow God’s law when it agrees with something you want to do, and conveniently
ignore it when it suits your purpose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God’s
law is <i>always</i> God’s law, not just when you like it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His Law is Love, and our job is reconciliation,
not judgement.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m not perfect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
can’t claim any better record at actually following through with this than
anyone else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am trying my hardest
though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve learned more and more throughout
my life that Love really is the answer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This thing really is killing people, and we can do something
about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You will say something like, “I
care, I just don’t think we should be doing it this way….”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Please just shut up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Take responsibility for your own actions, and start thinking like
someone else is at least as important as you are to yourself.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I know I am not alone when I say I have held the hands of
the dead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are impossibly cold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have tried in vain to impart some warmth
back into them, and I have discovered to my despair that I cannot bring anyone
back to life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are no do overs.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If someone I loved were to die from this virus, and it could
be shown that it came from you, that you were in fact responsible for my loved
one’s death because you couldn’t be bothered to care enough to take precautions,
then I would come to you.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We would have a meeting, and you would not welcome it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would not threaten you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would not harm you or do anything to you.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What I would do, would be to give you the <i>unimaginable
weight of my grief</i>. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I would place upon your shoulders the overwhelming,
unbearable burden of the effect of your own actions onto your shoulders.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I would watch alongside you as it weighed us both down
together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As it pressed us to the earth and inexorably crushed us.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As it slowly and inevitably left us all but lifeless.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And then I would take it back.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I would forgive you, and take your hand to help you heal.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I would love you once again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And then I would sit beside you, and take your hand and ask,
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Was the life we lost worth it?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
©Dan Bode 2020<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />Dan-ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498485884852538560noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6222880919962709217.post-84652873409773068452019-12-25T09:44:00.003-08:002019-12-25T09:44:40.445-08:00His GloryChristmas 2019<br />
<br />
Christmas is not the only day we see His Glory.<br />
Let us never forget that He calls us to Love every day,<br />
Every hour,<br />
Every minute,<br />
Every second,<br />
Every single moment of our lives.<br />
<br />
This is where His Glory is most present.<br />
This is when we know Him best<br />
When we Love.<br />
<br />
Humanity does not deserve my praise,<br />
Only Him,<br />
The babe, the Man, my God.<br />
If all creation sings His praises,<br />
Who am I to be silent?<br />
<br />
There is no one on this earth who can tell me who to love or who to hate.<br />
There is no one who can demand my love,<br />
But He can call me to it.<br />
And so I seek to reach the goal He sets for me,<br />
Not on just this one day of the year but rather -<br />
<br />
Always.<br />
<br />
Dan Bode Copyright 2019Dan-ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498485884852538560noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6222880919962709217.post-47995512839062936972019-02-24T11:42:00.003-08:002019-06-26T11:05:06.579-07:00This Is Not a Path <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Years ago, as I would walk my daily route to my office from the train station, I would walk along a cement pathway that cut through a portion of a back area near the Convention Center. The pathway was only about twenty feet long and bordered a lawn area on one side and a planter bed on the other. I had been walking this same route every weekday for a few years when one day I reached the other end of this short pathway to find an obstruction.</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">A metal signpost had been erected in the exact center of the pathway. Attached to the post at chest height by bolts through the center was a sign that read, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">“This is not a path”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">I was confused, to say the least.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">I had been using this as a path for some time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">But it was NOT a path. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">There was a sign that very clearly stated this fact.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">I stood there as my mind plodded along considering the implications for several minutes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">I even took a picture of it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Was it a path before, and then not a path?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Or, was it never a path and I just never knew it until some unknown individual decided everyone needed to know?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Was I in violation of the law? (I pictured undercover law enforcement lying in wait to tackle me for this flagrant violation as I cast surreptitious glances behind the bushes near the now “NOT a” path.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">And now, having been caught out by the signage, should I commit a collateral violation by stepping off the “NOT a” path onto the lawn (which was clearly not a path and never meant as one, which I had always assumed the “NOT a” path was there to protect)?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Quandaries often beget conundrums.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">On this, my first encounter with the signpost, I carefully stepped around it without touching the grass and completed my daily sojourn to my office.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">As the days progressed, I found myself completely unable to alter my route to work to avoid the “NOT a” path.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My feet were drawn to that cement like metal to a magnet, and as I approached it, I found myself looking over my shoulder to see if anyone was monitoring my movements.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At one point I discovered that someone else who walked the “NOT a” path took active offense at the sign’s legalistic declaration.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Half of the sign was bent back around the signpost.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">While I was inwardly overjoyed to find that someone else shared my disdain for the message this sign conveyed, I shuddered to think of the consequences of this most flagrant disregard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I carefully avoided touching it thereby leaving no fingerprints to implicate myself in this most welcome vandalism.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was easier to get around the sign now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Several days later I found that someone else had straightened the sign.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was still a very obvious crease left where it had been bent, and the paint had cracked marring the previously smoothly pristine surface of the message.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">And, as before, I walked past the sign with my now characteristic nonchalance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Another span of days passed uneventfully until I set my foot upon the path again and found that the sign had been bent back again, except that this time my fellow “NOT a” path-er had bent back BOTH sides of the sign to completely wrap it around the post!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">It seemed that war had been declared.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">A few days later I arrived to find the sign had been straightened once again with the creases considerably more prominent than previously noted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">A week passed, and I had by now learned to approach the “NOT a” path with an air of expectation, constantly wondering what new iteration of sabotage I might find.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sometimes found myself wondering about it as I drank my morning coffee at home before I began my journey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I eagerly approached the “NOT a” path I noted from a distance a difference in the sign, but I was too far away to identify the nuances of the change.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I walked a little faster as I approached and found, to my great surprise, that half the sign was missing!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">The left half had simply vanished!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Closer examination revealed the wonderful perpetrator had simply bent the left half of the sign back and forth until, in its weakened state, the metal simply surrendered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">It was a Monday and the final battle had begun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Tuesday found the other half of the sign bent back again in what I perceived to be a precursor to its removal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I began to picture, in my mind, the previously removed left half hanging on the wall of someone’s garage reading, “This…i…no…pa”, patiently waiting to be reunited with its other half.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Wednesday the sign post-er tried to rally against the onslaught by bending the remnant of the sign back to as close to a straightened position as was possible, but it seemed a half-hearted effort at best.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Thursday was the last gasp where I found only a one-inch strip of the metal sign remaining where the bolts that held the sign to the post were located.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Friday even the small strip was gone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">All that was left was a lonely post left standing in the middle of what was apparently, once again, a “path”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">It has been several years since I walked that route to my office as I changed my commuter route, so I went back to check the status of the path.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">The path is still there, as well as the post.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">It is still used as a path, and there is still no sign.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">It occurs to me that I often use things for purposes for which they were not originally intended, and that most of the time that isn’t necessarily a bad thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes, however, it doesn’t really do me any good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Sometimes I’m using something a different way because I’m too impatient to wait until I have the correct tools to do it right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes I’m stubbornly selfish enough to just barrel right into a wall and knock it down, rather than build a door in it and leave the structure intact as the original builder intended.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Sometimes I look back on my life and realize that some of my views and actions were just plain wrong, and that I now disagree with my old self in many ways.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">The problems I face most often arise when I see someone attempting to selfishly use another person for their own purposes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Trying to control another for personal gain is never acceptable. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Relationships are not transactions, and people are not currency.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet that is what our politicians and media elite on ALL sides consider the rest of us to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are simply a means to their ends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are used in ways in which we should not be used.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We hate whom we are told we should hate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We deny existence to those we simply do not want.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We spew hatred and call it tolerance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Honesty is rarely seen, and integrity is all but non-existent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We allow it with our compliance, and we are simply walked upon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">We have become pavement.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">A path that should not be a path.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Your choice is this: will you be the well-trod and worn-down stone, or will you be the one who stands up for those around you that are beaten down and disavowed – the ones you yourself so loudly shout down in disagreement?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Now consider that each person who reads this will interpret it to justify his/her own view.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They will come to the conclusion that the “other side” does this exactly!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">My response to that will be that they have missed my point completely.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">My point is that we – each and every one of us – is guilty of this at one time or another.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We all need to realize, and practice, the idea that understanding does NOT equal agreement, and we are not right simply by virtue of standing on a bigger soap box.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Sometimes I realize that it’s actually easier to apply love, grace, kindness and forgiveness than it is to find ways to justify my - sometimes actually justifiable - anger or disagreement. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">There is joy in peace, and from this I find it easier to love.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">I have found, finally, that love is always the more welcome path, and the most wonderful journey.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">It always leads me home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">©Dan Bode 2019<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
</div>
Dan-ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498485884852538560noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6222880919962709217.post-79949520457806454752018-12-24T08:06:00.001-08:002018-12-24T08:06:08.887-08:00WDJD?<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
WWJD<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What Would Jesus Do?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He would live for you.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jesus states that “Greater love has no one than this, that
someone lay down his life for his friends.”(John 15:13).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I suppose I could probably make an argument
that if He also says to “love your enemy”, then my enemy could eventually, in
some sense, at some point in time, be my friend as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then, of course, logic dictates that I might
lay down my life for them as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Scary
thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s happened before.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My point is that I have a choice in how I spend my
life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could potentially choose to die
in someone’s place in some instances.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So,
Jesus gave me direction in the manner with which I could live the life He gave
me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But He didn’t give me the choice of where, when, how, or why
I would be born, because He has reserved that option for Himself alone.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He chose to die for me, but He chose to <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">live</i></b> for me first.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He came into this world for that specific
purpose, knowing what each of us needed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>No one else has the ability to love in that way, and yet He calls me to
love others as I know He loves me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This level of love has, in the past, seemed so far beyond my
abilities that I would simply give up trying and give in to the needs of the moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would just do what I wanted, responding
angrily to something with the rest of the crowd.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or maybe trying to fix something, or someone,
that was not my responsibility and failing miserably.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But real Love, just isn’t like that.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Real Love desires that I give up my prejudices, my anger, my
politics, the things I was taught, and all the other “encumbrances” that I’ve
accumulated throughout my life, even when I’m faced with all of those same
things in my friends, whom I would in fact lay down my life for despite our
differences.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My wife and I were talking the other day, and as we were
driving past an insanely crowded mall with miles long lines of cars waiting to
get into the parking lot she asked, “Why do you think people do that to
themselves?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What is worth all that?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My answer was nothing is worth doing that, but I think we do
it because we have such a limited ability to express love for each other that
we’ve given in to the idea of “things” as an expression of love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have reached a point where we have devoted
entire industries to the idea that we can universally express love to our
fellow man for <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">only one day</i></b> out of the year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Some of us get a few weeks out of it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We do this because this way we can get out of making a
continuous commitment to love others on a regular basis.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because if we love someone more than that one
day then it interferes with our own desires for ourselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This becomes how we choose to live, and to
die.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And so we choose to live in a
constant state of discontent, because no one will give us what we want.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In light of what we’ve become, the question of “What Would
Jesus Do?” is perhaps not as relevant as we think it is anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wonder if the more pertinent question today
is, “What <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><u>Did</u></i></b> Jesus Do?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s a question that has already been answered.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He chose to live – for you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s the only answer He could give, and the only One who could give it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Merry Christmas.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">WDJD?</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
©Dan Bode 2018<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Dan-ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498485884852538560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6222880919962709217.post-78962461355391177472018-11-01T12:52:00.002-07:002018-11-01T12:52:38.392-07:00Love Conquers All. I'm reposting this one from 2013 because it reflects a lot of the thoughts that have been going through my head for a while now. I'll be posting more stuff again in the coming weeks dealing with many of the topics that figure prominently in the news today - because I believe that almost everything that comes up in almost every discussion in our society today is tainted by a lack of the one thing we need the most: Love.<br />
<br />
"Love Conquers All"<br />
I’ve heard that phrase for most of my life at one time or another, and I’m not sure I ever really understood it until now. I have no idea why it took so long.<br />
It portrays love in the sense of the conquering hero.<br />
The one whom no enemy can stand against.<br />
The difference for me now is that I understand that the battlefield on which all this conflict takes place is in my <span style="font-style: italic;">own </span>heart.<br />
When I examine it realistically I have to admit that I always thought of it in terms of conquering someone else. I wanted love to conform others to my <span style="font-style: italic;">own </span>expectations of what they should be. I wanted love to be at <span style="font-style: italic;">my </span>command.<br />
Imagine my surprise then, when the blade turned upon me instead.<br />
Love will, if I let it, overcome my pain to grant forgiveness, or ask for it.<br />
It will overcome my pride to extend my hand in friendship to my enemy.<br />
It will overcome my anger to allow my faithfulness.<br />
It will overcome <span style="font-style: italic;">me</span>.<br />
Love conquers all, but first, love conquers <span style="font-style: italic;">me</span>. My walls must be overcome from within.<br />
It is sometimes hard to love, but worth <span style="font-style: italic;">your whole life</span> to reach just one moment of being completely known by another, and to know the other in turn. To reach out your hand unseen in the dark knowing the hand of another is already there in expectation to take it.<br />
It is worth everything for just one <span style="font-style: italic;">moment </span>of this. To be known, and not forgotten.<br />
Living your life in pursuit of that first, and maybe only, all encompassing instant of <span style="font-style: italic;">perfection</span>.<br />
Because God <span style="font-style: italic;">is </span>Love, He created us as an expression of Himself, hence we are created in His image. As an expression of God Himself we are inherently worthy of His sacrifice for us, and yet God on a cross seems so incongruous to our concept of love. That’s the problem with our interpretation of love. It’s so watered down we have no concept of what real love is. It’s as though in so many ways we have sanitized the true expression of love to be <span style="font-style: italic;">bloodless</span>. It’s all butterflies and sunny days to our general way of thinking.<br />
We seem to forget that love <span style="font-style: italic;">"endures all things"</span>(1Cor 13:7), and the need for endurance implies conflict, distraction, and sometimes pain. We should love <span style="font-style: italic;">fiercely </span>letting nothing come between us.<br />
Love, when practiced honestly, becomes beauty incarnate.<br />
Love influences the practice of my life. It gives everything I do different meaning.<br />
Love truly is an action, and yet it is more. It becomes what we do, where we go, who we know and how we know them. Love cannot reach its full potential in our lives if we do not allow ourselves to live in complete surrender to it. If I am only capable of loving someone when things are all good, then I don’t really love at all.<br />
Each of the qualities of love (1Cor 13) implies that there is a need for that quality because its opposite exists in the world. Patience is needed because the lack of it causes bitterness. Kindness is needed because cruelty exists. The difficult part of this is that we all know that we are capable of dealing out all the opposing forces of love. We focus on the positive aspects because we feel better when we actively pursue them as a lifestyle. There is healing in the practice of love.<br />
“Love your enemies” (Lk 6:35), is the most difficult aspect of love, but Jesus gave us examples of it throughout His life. Judas was the most difficult enemy to deal with because he was already loved. His ability to cause pain was increased by the measure of love Christ gave him. There are times when the evidence of the love of God seems so profound to me that I actually understand why some people fear it rather than readily accept it.<br />
Even the one who betrayed Christ was allowed at His table. Christ knew that Judas was His betrayer, and yet His love for him was such that He still desired Judas’ presence in the Passover meal; one of the most intimate of settings.<br />
Judas didn’t deserve that and he knew it. Jesus knew this as well, and gave it to him anyway. All this made Judas’ betrayal that much more profound to Judas, for the greater the love we give when betrayed causes that much more pain for the betrayer.<br />
And is it not one of the most important aspects of love that we should find the ability to love our enemies for the simple fact that when we sin <span style="font-style: italic;">we </span>ourselves act as the most intimate of enemies to God, and He loves us <span style="font-style: italic;">still</span>? Is He not the greatest example of loving one’s enemy simply by loving us for, “He loved us while we were yet sinners” (Romans 5:8), let alone the ones <span style="font-style: italic;">we </span>condemn without authority?<br />
It is the ability of love to not only conquer all things, but to <span style="font-style: italic;">remain </span>after everything is done and over with. After all the blood has been shed, the ground churned, and with the vultures circling overhead to pick at the corpses of our discontent, Love walks among us to restore us after all the pain to a healed state ready to love again. It is self perpetuating by nature so that when we learn to love ourselves, as God loves us, we understand that we must do something to maintain it in ourselves in order to stay alive to share it with others.<br />
His love makes us <span style="font-style: italic;">matter</span>.<br />
And so we are filled with <span style="font-style: italic;">possibilities</span>.<br />
Because of His love Jesus not only died, but He came <span style="font-style: italic;">back </span>for us!<br />
He. Came. Back.<br />
It is this single, overwhelming act of love that inspires every other expression of true love that we can ever submit to or practice in the human experience.<br />
Through His redemption we are alive with the potential to discover the worth of our very <span style="font-style: italic;">souls</span>.<br />
Live in love,<br />
Do battle in love,<br />
Rest in love,<br />
Die in love,<br />
Return in love.<br />
God did.<br />
It’s called Easter.<br />
©Dan Bode 2010Dan-ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498485884852538560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6222880919962709217.post-22722067178560520022017-12-27T15:23:00.003-08:002017-12-27T15:23:37.281-08:00The Day After<div class="MsoNormal">
It was Christmas in 1914 during World War I. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The British and Germans had fought to
something of a stalemate. It was
bitterly cold on the front in Belgium where both sides were holding the line in
fortified trenches in the early part of one of the worst wars in history.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And it was Christmas.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With no light to see the target the shooting stopped at night,
and in the silence German voices were heard yelling across the “no man’s land”
separating the lines, “Merry Christmas, Englishmen!” The British returned their greetings, yelling
into the frigid night. Someone started
singing Christmas carols which were joined by the opposite side.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Eventually, soldiers on both sides ventured out of their
trenches – unarmed – to greet each other and exchange gifts of chocolate,
cigarettes and other small extravagances that mean so much to a soldier in the
field. A truce of sorts was declared,
and no shots were fired during Christmas Day on this part of the line.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For that one day they were able to put aside their
human-ness, and take up the image of Christ to celebrate His birth. Yet they
knew as well that they would soon be obligated to try to kill each other even
as they celebrated the anniversary of new life come to save us all from death.All because of Christmas. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I suppose Jesus wasn’t called “The Prince of Peace” for nothing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The day after Christmas has always puzzled me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We spend weeks, if not months, leading up to Christmas Day,
touting it as the “happiest time of the year”.
There are lights everywhere, and everyone is happy, and generous, and
caring.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But then it’s over, and they aren’t anymore. The lights go out, and, seemingly, so does
our joy.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The days after Christmas are a period of undefined silence
in which <i>anything </i>can happen. We come
down from that period of frenzied activity leading up to that one day with no
idea what to do with our lives, but take down the decorations and throw the
wrapping paper in the trash.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s in this period where Christ can strip us bare. We have the opportunity to acknowledge His
love and beauty, or we can pick up again the mantle of our humanity and return
to the savagery we seek to leave behind.
This is not new; I do it every day. I give up the gifts He’s given me
and return to being simply human. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I give
up the better part to become the least. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I give up being more than human, and become even less. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then He speaks, “Yesterday was my birthday,
but I’m still here. Why do you celebrate
only one day of my life? I am always
present! I still Love you! Remember!
Remember! ”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I wish you a Merry Day After Christmas!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And a Merry Day After the Day After Christmas!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He is still here….<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
©Dan Bode 2017<o:p></o:p></div>
Dan-ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498485884852538560noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6222880919962709217.post-50663641812190352982017-08-26T19:15:00.000-07:002017-08-26T19:15:40.084-07:00The Boulevard Series - Final - At the end of the Boulevard<div class="MsoNormal">
Boulevard Coffee is closed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As the saying goes, “All good things must come to an end.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Why that is true I don’t really understand, but there it
is. And now we come to the end of
something that has been here for 35 years, give or take. Three generations of my family, and countless
friends, have had the opportunity to experience it directly or indirectly. Some of you who have read my blog in the past
will have read about episodes of my life that have happened there.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s reasonable to assume that, after this many years,
roasting beans in a plant that reaches temperatures over 100 F in the summer,
and working behind the counter serving customers of every disposition and
persuasion, the owner might feel he has a right to retire. And he does, so he is. Retiring I mean.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cliff has been watching people darken the door at Boulevard
Coffee for a long time. He started off
originally at a little spot further up Fair Oaks Boulevard that was more like
someone’s living room. It had a fireplace,
and couches everywhere, and it felt very “homey”. Eventually he expanded to a second store and
a separate roasting plant. After several
years he closed the original shop and stayed at the second store. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I started going to the original store and then switched to
the second one when he closed the first one.
I was there at least once a week, but usually more if I could find a way
to work it into my schedule. I started
going there because the coffee was the best I ever had, and I have yet to find
better. I continued to go there because it
became a refuge for me. The events of my
life led me to find someplace where I could find a few hours of peace, and so I
found myself a spot at a table there and received an education in coffee at the
feet of the master.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There were times when few seats were available. I walked in one day and the place was as
crowded as I’d ever seen it. I looked
around and told Cliff, “I guess I better get it to go today!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cliff looked around and said, “Hang on a minute.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He went to the back through a door and stuck his head back
out and waved me back. He pulled up a
chair to the supply room counter and said, “Is this ok? I don’t want you to have to leave.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Really? That’s really cool!
Thanks!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What do you want?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I told him what I wanted and he brought it back to me. I felt like I had the keys to the
kingdom. It was one of those moments
where I felt like I could say, “Yeah I know somebody who can help you…”, you
know? That’s been our relationship for
20 years. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cliff was roasting coffee in the Sacramento area long before
anyone else. A “coffee community” has
sprung up over the last 10 years or so, but I have to say they are some of the
most pretentious people I’ve ever met.
They think a good cup of coffee is rated by the design the person
pouring it draws in the cream. And the
coffee isn’t that great.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am biased for sure, but I’m also right on this point. So there.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I have contemplated my last day here at Boulevard I think
back to when I first started coming here.
It was a place to go to separate myself from all the pressures of my
normal environment. As life moved on
over the years it was a place where I knew I always had a space. I was always comfortable here with both the
staff and the regulars. It was safe. Boulevard was the first place I thought of to
meet my family and friends, the place I went to read or write, the place to
simply sit, and in essence quite simply my refuge. I knew all the employees, and they knew
me. If you walked in and asked them to
make your coffee the way Dan Bode drinks it they would know what to give
you. I used to bring in breakfast burritos
to the employees on Sunday mornings just to make sure they had breakfast since
they started so early. I felt a little
bad when I brought them in and discovered Jeff was trying to go
vegetarian. He decided to put it off for
a while since there was bacon in it, which I thought was a very intelligent
choice because, well – bacon! Most
coffee places know who you are by the drink you order, but there they actually
knew your name. Boulevard was the Cheers
of coffee.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I started dating Brenda this was one of the first
places I brought her, and of course everyone loved her as much as they loved
me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In light of all this I understand that as much as it is the
right time for Cliff to close these doors for himself, it is also the right
time for me. My life is filled with joy
now, and I no longer need the refuge. At
the same time without all the experiences and people from this place I would
not have the degree of joy I have come to know.
This place, and the people there, have helped to shape me into the
person who was right for my wife. I had
countless cups with my daughters, and grandkids (hot chocolate for them),
extended family and friends. Knowing everyone
who has worked there over the years has been a great blessing. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today was the last official open day. I sat in the shop today for a good portion of
it. I got to see old friends and
regulars, and of course, Fred. It
wouldn’t have been right if I didn’t get to end it with him there since it
pretty much started with him too. It was
funny that I had just finished telling the Fred story to one of the other regulars
when he walked up. Perfect.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I drank more coffee than I ever have before in one day.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It occurred to me today as I was driving in that I had
expected to be going to Boulevard after I retired, but Cliff beat me to it. Twenty years of Saturdays, and then some,
have passed by in this place, so now I have to find something else to fill my
time. It’s not like there’s not plenty
to do – I just need to get used to the idea of doing something different. Driving a different direction. Setting a different path. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This whole experience has been a lot like reading a good
book. When it’s well written you get
caught up in the story and the lives of the characters. You get to know them very well, but then the
story always ends. You miss the
characters and their world that you were a part of for a while. You miss the story and wish it hadn’t ended.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, today as I walked out the door of Boulevard for the last
time, I read the last page and closed the cover. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Time to find a new story.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
©Dan Bode 2017<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Dan-ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498485884852538560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6222880919962709217.post-11377207436102295602017-08-24T22:02:00.002-07:002017-08-24T22:02:46.394-07:00The Boulevard Series Part 3 - When Your Art Finds You<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">It is a
great thing when your art finds you.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">We each
have an art of our own. We don’t always
know what it is yet. It is something we
seek and usually feel less than complete without. We also call them our gifts. It is something given to us in order to be
given to others in one form or another.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">There are
different kinds of artists as well.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Some
“artists” have to tell you that they are in fact “artists”. They do everything they can to “offend your
sensibilities” in order to “make a statement”.
I must say that if someone has to tell you they are an artist I think
it’s probably safe to say they really aren’t one at all.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Some
artists have found something that truly gives them joy and satisfaction in the
finished product. Whether it has any
lasting effect on anyone else is secondary to them and, in most cases, mostly
irrelevant to them. It is what they
like.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Still
other artists have developed to the point where their art has reached a
pinnacle where the rest of us can understand and appreciate the message
expressed in their work. Some of us even
discover that we actually like it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Then there
is the artist who, instead of finding his or her art, is instead captured by
the art that seeks expression through them.
The medium in which they exercise this gift is irrelevant. The effect of the end result of the process
is the important part. I am not sure
what to call these individuals; any title I gave would be superfluous anyway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">I was
privileged to spend a few hours yesterday with a friend who falls into the last
category.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">His name
is <st1:personname w:st="on">Cliff Miller</st1:personname>. He owns Boulevard Coffee. Now I know I have mentioned Cliff before, and
he has become a very good friend to me.
Cliff makes coffee. Now to those
of you who don’t drink coffee this will seem silly to you. But to those of us who do drink the stuff,
and in many instances live by it, this is a Great Thing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">You see,
the thing is, Boulevard Coffee is more than just a coffee house. It’s not just a business, it’s a gathering
place. If, once you’ve darkened the
doorway, you choose to drink a cup of coffee you will find that it is indeed an
experience unique to this place, because Cliff is an “artist” whose <i>art</i> found <i>him</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Most
coffee places buy their coffee from a supplier and brew it in the shop. This is fine, but it can take some time to
find a roaster who adequately reflects the atmosphere the proprietor wishes to
reflect.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Cliff
roasts his own coffee, and it is unique to him, and because of Cliff’s devotion
to his art you will experience some of the best coffee you have ever tasted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">In the
course of our last weekly conversation, he invited me to come by his roasting
plant to show me how it’s done. I took
him up on that invitation yesterday, and he did indeed show me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">I watched
as he selected the blend of green beans he wanted for the first batch he would
do that day. He never formally measured
anything: he just knew what was supposed to be in it. He weighed it out and it was exactly what he
wanted it to be. He then took the beans
over to the roaster and put them in. He
showed me how the temperature is set in the roaster and how just a few degrees
difference in temperature can be the difference in what kind of roast you get. I looked through the window built into the
side of the roasting chamber and watched as the beans changed color. As we waited for them to finish I watched
Cliff. He looked around the shop to make
sure everything was operating as it should.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">“I have
this equipment all set up in the center of the shop because it’s the center of
everything that happens here. I can step
back from this spot and see everything else that’s going on here, and I’ve got
God looking over my shoulder there so everything’s good.” He yelled over the
roar of the machine as he pointed over his shoulder at a picture of Jesus
teaching a crowd on a hillside tacked to the wall.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">As the
beans finished roasting he transferred them to a cooling bin where a large fan
sucks air down through the beans as they are stirred and quickly cooled. They were a rich, dark brown color now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">The smell
of coffee, even to the uninitiated, is almost universally liked. It’s even better when you first open the bag
to put it in the coffee maker. But even
that will not prepare you for the aroma that these beans hold immediately after
they are roasted. It’s truly
amazing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">As I
watched the beans being stirred in the bin I realized that this was a new
experience for me and that it was something that I would not see often enough
to get tired of. On the other hand, if I
had to see it every day and my living was dependent on this I might get to the
point where I wouldn’t want to see another coffee bean again. Then I thought about Cliff, and I looked over
at him and realized that this was truly what he wanted to do. This was not a job to him. This was joy for him even though it was his
chosen profession as well.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">“Even
after you retire you won’t be able to quit doing this will you?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">He smiled
and shook his head, “No. That’s why I
have that little roaster over there.
I’ll just go out to the shop I’ll set up at <st1:personname w:st="on">home</st1:personname>
and roast what I want to for a few hours and then I’ll just do whatever else I
need to do that day. I like it too much
to stop.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">I asked
him one day how he got started in the coffee business, and he told me his job
history that took him across the country from <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">New York</st1:place></st1:state> to <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Seattle</st1:place></st1:city>, and eventually to <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Carmichael</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">California</st1:state></st1:place>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">“Then”, he
said “one fateful day I ran out of coffee.
I went out to get more and found that there was no coffee in <st1:place w:st="on">Carmichael</st1:place>.” (I
take that to mean there was no <i>real </i>coffee
in <st1:place w:st="on">Carmichael</st1:place>) “So I went <st1:personname w:st="on">home</st1:personname> to my wife and I said, ‘There’s no coffee in <st1:place w:st="on">Carmichael</st1:place>. I
think we should open our own coffee place.’ ”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">I suspect
the ensuing discussion was somewhat spirited since at the time his lovely wife
Karen was caring for a new baby, and there were many factors involved in an
undertaking like this, but the rest is, as they say, history.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Over the
years it has all evolved into what it is, and it has done so because Cliff is
who he is. When Cliff’s art found him it
sought expression through him by way of coffee, but it has not been confined to
just that medium. It has found
expression in the shops that he has owned, in the employees that choose to work
for him (which list contains the names of some artists of no small talent in
their own right as well like Jeff and Kristen), and in the people that come to his shop, and in the
band that he plays in. It is in the look
on a customer’s face when they light up with the realization that, “So <i>this</i> is how it’s supposed to taste!” It is the quality of something not just done
right, but done The Way It Is Meant To Be Done.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Some
artists work with wood, some with words, some with music, some with paint and
canvass, or stone, or clay, or even coffee.
But no matter the medium, The Grand Artist has chosen to express His art
through broken and flawed vessels. Regardless
of how useless <i>we</i> may feel at times, <i>His</i> eyes see us as precious and
useful. Those things in me which I often
see as flaws are often meant to be things that cause His gift in me to flow
more freely. For the place in this
vessel from which my art, or gift, is poured out causes it to flow to a
particular spot exactly where He needs it to be, and so I become an extension
of Him, if I choose to let Him use me.
It is when His Art finds expression through me that I finally realize my
purpose in this life, and it is in those moments that I find my greatest
happiness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">©<st1:personname w:st="on">Dan Bode</st1:personname> 2004<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Dan-ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498485884852538560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6222880919962709217.post-19942948157804037862017-08-20T19:05:00.002-07:002017-08-20T19:05:43.828-07:00The Boulevard Series - Part 2 "Fred - The Rest of the Story"<div class="MsoNormal">
About a year ago I wrote a story about a man named Fred,
whom I had never met, but for whom I was being mistaken on a semi regular
basis. This whole thing came to a head
when several regulars in the coffee shop mistook me for Fred. Well now I have reason to write, as Paul
Harvey would say, “The Rest of the Story”.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I met Fred!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A few days ago I gave a copy of Fred (Part One) to Cliff,
the owner of Boulevard Coffee where the original story took place. When I came in today he walked up to me and
pointing to guy sitting at the table right next to me he said, “Dan, meet
Fred! Fred meet Dan!” and then he just
laughed out loud.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Are you serious? Is
this really Fred?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes it is!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Fred meanwhile was looking at us with a look of complete
confusion.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cliff handed his copy of the Fred story to Fred and said,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You need to read this.
Dan gave this to me a couple of days ago, and when I read it I laughed
my face off! Then I brought this in for
the rest of the staff to read and I see you two sitting right next to each
other! When I read this I knew I was
going to have to do something about this, because I knew all the players! Now here you are and the mystery is
solved! Fred read this story and you
will understand everything.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So Fred, having said nothing up to this point said, “Ok.”
With a somewhat bemused smile on his face and started reading. He chuckled as he read it, for which I am
infinitely glad. There is nothing like
the suspense a writer feels when he is sitting right next to someone who is
reading one of his stories. It’s even
worse when the subject of the story is the one reading it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He looked up at me when he was done, “That was funny! That really happened?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes it did.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I looked at him a little closer, trying to be objective
about it, and honestly, while he is a nice looking guy, I don’t think we really
look that much alike. We could maybe be
mistaken for brothers though. He is bald
too, although as he himself stated, “You have more hair than I do.” Which in
reality isn’t saying much.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well you know when you’re in your seventies with bad eyes
and on meds anybody can look alike!” said Cliff. This is what I consider to be a Deep
Truth. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The only disadvantage to this whole thing is that now I
won’t be able to blame anything on Fred.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After giving it a little more thought I should have expected
that Cliff would have known everyone involved in the story. He tells me that they have been coming to the
shop for 10 years. He says, “This is why
I do this. I love this stuff that happens
with all these people!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Fred and I talked for a little bit. He told me more about the guys in the
story. One of them had introduced him to
his girlfriend, Page, a very pretty woman who was at the table with him and
also read the story. The guys apparently
don’t get out too much anymore, for health reasons. One of them has a serious illness that
prevents him from doing too much. Now
that we all know each other I will need to find out more about them and get to
know them better vicariously if nothing else.
By virtue of who they are they have been profound influences on the
lives of others. I hope that I can say
the same as I grow older.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have decided that I really love this place. I mean, I knew I liked it before, but I never
really gave it much more thought. As I
sit here at this table in the midst of a small crowd of humanity I realize as I
watch everyone behind the counter that people are here, like me, because they
really just simply enjoy being <i>here</i>. I am sure the caffeine is at least partially
responsible for this feeling, simply by virtue of the fact that it is rather
difficult to maintain a depressed demeanor when your whole body is shaking from
the extra jolt from that second cup.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But the bottom line is this: this is a great place to be,
and I will come as often as I am able. I
will sit at my table and read, or write, or stare out the window. I will watch people coming and going some of
whom I know some of whom I don’t know, and some of whom I will know. There’s a certain camaraderie that exists
simply because we know that we are all there because of a common denominator:
we all like <i>this </i>place. There is a warmth that comes from the people
that work here, the physical design of the place, and even the shelves that are
packed with all the tea and coffee paraphernalia that you could ever possibly
think of. When you come in you get that
nod of familiarity even if they don’t know your name yet. They remember what you ordered in the past
when you’ve been coming there for a little while too. Whenever one of my friends wants to get
together for coffee I do everything I can to arrange a meeting there. I know they will like it, but I have to admit
that the main reason is selfish: it gives me another excuse to go there. And if they decide to buy my coffee for me I
feel particularly blessed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cliff used to have two shops, but he sold the one that was
my original haunt to someone else. I
went there a few times afterward just because it had become more of a habit and
it was a little closer to my home. But I
have to tell you that it simply wasn’t the same place. I couldn’t deal with it. Perhaps I am simply too much a creature of
habit. There were different people there
now who came for different reasons so I started driving down Fair Oaks Boulevard
a few miles further to Cliff’s place. It
feels much better here. The coffee’s
better too. He roasts his own beans, and
you can tell the difference between his and others. It’s that good. And that Pecan Streusel CoffeeCake is to die
for. Whenever I come home from there my
wife almost always says, “You smell like coffee”. Which is much better than smelling like a lot
of other things. She likes the smell of
coffee by the way, so that’s just another plus for Boulevard although I’m not
sure it could take the place of a good cologne.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So if you’re looking for me, and you haven’t been able to
catch up to me at home, then start hanging around Boulevard Coffee and sooner
or later you’ll catch up to me. Or Fred.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
©Dan Bode 2004<o:p></o:p></div>
Dan-ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498485884852538560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6222880919962709217.post-6809739078845130392017-08-19T18:08:00.000-07:002017-08-19T18:08:15.149-07:00The Boulevard Series - In honor of the closing of Boulevard Coffee, my refuge of the last 20 years, I am posting some pieces that I wrote about things that occurred there over the years. So it is with both fondness and sorrow that I give you the first of the series.This event ocurred around the year 2000 I think. I've told the story many times....<br />
<br />
Fred - Part One<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
There’s someone out there who looks like me. Apparently he is a nice guy. Until just recently I didn’t know his name,
but I have been aware of his presence for over 20 years. His name is Fred. I have never met Fred, but I can see some
potential for him to complicate my life.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When my wife and I were in our “pre-dating” phase of our
dating relationship, (ya know when you’re not officially dating, but you “run
into” each other all the time), my future mother-in-law, whom I love dearly,
told my wife-to-be that she had seen me at the state fair with ANOTHER
WOMAN. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now at any time in a relationship the words “another woman”
are never said in a positive context. At
least I have yet to hear the phrase used in a good way. Fortunately for me my wife-to-be had called
me at work the night that I was supposedly with this other woman, and I had
called her when I got back to my place after work, so she knew that I wasn’t at
the fair. I am very fortunate to be able
to look back on this and laugh. Ever
since then I have wondered if I would ever meet whoever it was that looked
enough like me to get me into trouble, and if I would ever have to deal with
something like this again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I mean, think about it.
All this guy has to do is walk around town with his arm around his wife,
and anyone who thinks he’s me is gonna walk up and slap him. Although I suppose the same is true for him
as well. Some if his friends might see
me with my wife and come up and slap me.
I wonder if I have gotten him in trouble? Never thought about that one before.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway, jump ahead to just a few months ago.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am sitting at a table in my favorite coffee house. It’s called Boulevard Coffee on <st1:street w:st="on">Fair Oaks Boulevard</st1:street>
in <st1:place w:st="on">Carmichael</st1:place>.
(No they didn’t pay me for that I just wanted to give them credit.) They serve what, in my opinion, is some of
the best coffee in town. Every Tuesday
morning around <st1:time hour="8" minute="0" w:st="on">8AM</st1:time> I go there
to have some time to myself. I read or
write or just stare out the window. It’s
a good place for that. It’s set up so
you feel like you’re in somebody’s den or library. Sometimes they have a fire going in the
fireplace and it gets even more comfortable.
And if you stay there for a long time they don’t bother you. They seem to like having you around. I have been going there regularly for a
while, and as is usually the case, you start to get to know the other regulars
enough to say hi, or even have a regular conversation with them.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now since I am a “weekly” regular as opposed to a “daily”
regular I don’t know them all as well as I would like. There is one group that usually starts to
gather around the time that I am getting ready to leave. There’re three men in the group, and they’re
all really nice guys. They are all in
their late 60’s to early 70’s, and while I don’t know their names I’ve talked
to them enough to know that they are the kind of guys I’d like to hang around
with. You can just sit and talk about
whatever you want, and soak in the wisdom they have to give.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One day a few months ago, before I had started talking to
these men, I found myself confused (which some will say is my usual condition).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was sitting in my usual spot when the first of these three
gentlemen came in to the shop. He walked
over to me and laid a friendly hand on my shoulder and said, <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Hey Fred, can I get you a refill?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now normally anyone offering to buy me a cup of coffee is a
friend of mine, but normally by the time anyone offers to buy me a cup of
coffee I have usually met them before. I
had never seen this guy before this moment.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In confusion (like I said) I looked up at him and said with
my usual eloquence,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Uhhhh, …my name’s not Fr-”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh, you’re not Fred!” he interrupted.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Uh-uh.” I am such a master of the spoken language.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Sorry, you look just like Fred!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I hope that’s a good thing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“No problem.” Bummer
about missing the refill. Oh well.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He went to sit at his usual table, and waited for his
friends, and I went back to my book.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A few minutes went by and the next man in the group came
into the shop. As he walked by my table
he paused and said,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Hey Fred! How are
you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Hi, I’m not Fre-”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“He’s not Fred!” called the first guy from their table.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Wow, you really look like Fred.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yeah, that’s what I gather.” I said.
At least I was getting a little more verbal.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well it was nice to meet you either way.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Thanks, you too.” I replied.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He made his way to the counter to get his coffee, and I went
back to my book.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After a few more minutes the third gentleman in the group
walked in. He went to the counter to get
his coffee and on his way to their table he looked at me and paused. He squinted his eyes as he looked at me and
said,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Fred? Is that you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“That’s not Fred!” said the first two guys from their
table. I didn’t even have time to open
my mouth that time. I think everyone in
the shop was pretty clear on the fact that my name wasn’t Fred by now.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh! Sorry. You look just like Fred. My eyes aren’t very good these days.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Nope, my name’s not Fred.
But my name <i>is</i> Dan, and I’m
thinking Fred must be a nice guy to be on such good terms with all of you.” I
said, and then I held out my hand and shook his, and went over to their table
and shook hands with the other two gentlemen.
They invited me to sit with them, and I would have but it was already
time for me to leave so I declined.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now at last I had a name to put to the man who was not
making any attempt to imitate me, but was doing so anyway.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One of these days I am going to actually meet Fred. I am going to tell him all the cases of
mistaken identity that I have experienced over the last 20 years. And I’d be willing to bet that when I
actually see him, I probably won’t recognize him. I probably won’t be able to see any
resemblance between us at all, but everyone else will. That’s the way it usually is; when we look at
ourselves we rarely see what is plain as day to everyone else. Now that I think
of it, if someone tries to blame me for something I don’t want to take credit
for, I could just say, “Fred did it!”
I’ll probably be safe too, ‘cuz I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know my name.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Well, I suppose I can live with Fred as my alter ego, at
least as long as he doesn’t really screw anything up. If he does something really bad then I’m
gonna have to go hunt him down, but if he’s been good for the last 20 years
we’re probably safe. I should probably
offer to buy him his next cup of coffee though.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
©Dan Bode 2003<o:p></o:p></div>
Dan-ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498485884852538560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6222880919962709217.post-23760535071111001652017-08-06T11:26:00.001-07:002017-08-06T11:28:28.396-07:00Amateurs and Experts - It struck me the other day as I was reading report after report of things happening in the world that everyone had something to say about everything. Every single person needs to have the last word, and it doesn’t matter if they’re actually telling the truth or not. The only requirement anymore seems to be that what they say should be perceived as true. Everyone wants to be an expert. Silence is perceived as a lack of intelligence rather than having nothing substantive to offer, so no one is willing to just shut up. They want people to believe every word they say, and accept it as accurate, even if they have done no research or made any effort to verify the information they put out. It no longer seems to matter if a statement is factually true anymore. It is simply accepted as truth if it is repeated often enough. So here’s my take on it all.<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
We are all
amateurs in life<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Though
experts we pretend to be<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yet every
day dawns anew<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
With nothing
yet to know.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Pretenders
are we <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Who
recognize neither awe nor terror<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
For experts
think that Kings they be<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
With no
authority in contradiction<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Where we see
nothing greater than ourselves<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
We seemingly
have no fear<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But at the
end of that road <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There is neither
love nor beauty seen<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
In our sole
regard of our own image<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
We fail to
see the visage in whose image we are made<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
We never
leave the mirror<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
We never
sense our form dissipating through the absence in our eyes<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
We will
always fall<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
We always
have<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yet some
will rise<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And some
will lie<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Some will
kill<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Some will
die<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Some will
wallow<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Some stand
tall<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But in the
end<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It’s always
dust and ashes <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And
sometimes Heaven<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And
sometimes Hell<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
All your
expertise is useless<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
In the end<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The answer
to the real question<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Is never
yours to know or give<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Our lives
are always <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Ultimately
in the hands <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Of the One
who knows us best<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And loves us
nonetheless<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The first
and final question<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Is the one
we seldom answer truthfully<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The one we
start our lives with<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The one we
answer daily to our own satisfaction<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Are you
Expert <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Managing
your own salvation<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Holding your
fate<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
In your own
inadequate hands, or<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Are you
Amateur<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Falling as
you learn<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Being lifted
when you fail<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Higher than
when you started?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
©Dan Bode
2017<o:p></o:p></div>
Dan-ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498485884852538560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6222880919962709217.post-9188014083269937572017-04-18T21:57:00.003-07:002017-04-18T22:01:32.239-07:00Striving for Daylight and Living the Dream<div class="MsoNormal">
Most of us have standard autopilot greetings for each other
on a day to day basis. Most of us ignore
these greetings, and give a standard autopilot reply. There’s one that I used to hear on a pretty
regular basis that I never understood. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I would greet someone with, “How are you doing?” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now this sounds like a standard greeting, but those who know
me know when I say that I actually want to <i>know</i>
how someone is doing! I’m overjoyed when
I get a real answer!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But sometimes someone would answer in a way that I just didn’t
understand. Frankly, it irritated me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“How are you doing?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’m Livin’ the Dream.”
(They always say it with capital letters.
I still don’t understand how they do that ‘cuz they say it in monotone,
and usually with droopy eyelids.)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Huh? Ok….<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One day I reached a point where I heard that phrase uttered
one too many times by a guy behind the coffee shop counter so I asked him:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What does that mean anyway?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He looked poleaxed. Like me in third grade when my teacher, Miss Ludwig, had just called on me to answer a question in class when I wasn’t
paying attention (which was often). I think he was kind of
afraid he might give the wrong answer, and it would go on his PERMANENT RECORD
(said with a loud voice and an echo).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Um… I never thought
about it. It’s just my standard
greeting.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Ok, just thought I’d
ask. I hear it so much I figure someone
has to know.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I kept asking people.
No one had an answer. I filed it
in the back room of my brain (it’s getting pretty cluttered back there – too
many unanswered questions, like: Why is there an ‘S’ in the word ‘lisp’).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then I discovered a few years ago that I started to dream
differently than I used to.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It used to be that, like most people, I would have a dream
and wake up in befuddlement thinking the dream was true for a few moments. I would usually feel a sense of relief that
the dream was in fact not happening.
Most of my dreams were, at the least, confusing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Things changed a while back though. I developed an awareness of my dreams. I will be in the middle of a dream and
realize that I am in fact having a dream, and I become more of an observer than
a participant. I find myself often
telling someone in the dream, “This is just a dream. I’m going to wake up now.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sometimes if it’s a particularly bad dream I’ll yell at
myself. “NO! NO! NO! THIS IS JUST A DREAM! WAKE UP YOU IDIOT!” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There was a time in my life when I was unaware of all
this. My dreams were an escape, and
sometimes a refuge. Someplace to drift
along without a care regardless of whether they were good or bad dreams. They offered variety if nothing else.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I understood the difference in my dreams I discovered
something else.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I no longer need the escape.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now, when I realize I’m in the dream, I have found that my
most fervent desire is to wake up. Not
because I don’t like the dream. The
quality of the dream is irrelevant.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With all the good and the bad that happens in the world
today I still find that my life is a wonderful gift. It is no longer necessary for me to escape
reality. When I realize I’m in the dream<i> I claw my way to wakefulness</i>. I strive to reach daylight so I can live my
life another day!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Want to know why? I
want to wake up because my life now is <i>better</i>
than my dreams! I wake up next to a
wonderful, beautiful woman. I wake up
knowing that my kids and grandkids and the rest of my family are still out there,
and they love me!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am living the dream! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I now find that I am reluctant to sleep.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It wasn’t easy to get where I am – ohh no! I know there’s a lot of you out there who
struggle through daily existence. I get
it. I’ve been there. Sometimes you feel like you pay a price for
living. Sometimes you realize that you
still have to deal with some nightmare people. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I discovered that Forgiveness – both given and received – is the
greatest harbinger of peace that has ever been, and I have discovered that I
need to pursue it daily.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Some days hope is harder to come by than others, but I want
you to know that Joy is still possible. Every
day is different, and somewhere down the road daylight is still there waiting
to greet you.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“- Joy comes in the morning” Psalm 30:5<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
©Dan Bode 2017<o:p></o:p></div>
Dan-ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498485884852538560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6222880919962709217.post-50396345409013447492016-12-21T20:26:00.003-08:002016-12-21T20:35:38.940-08:00ConvergenceMy friend Marc is easily one of the wisest men I know. I was talking with him at dinner one night, and he brought up the concept of “convergence”.<br />
<br />
Convergence is something we see when we look back. It’s that sense of a pattern, a nudge, a sense that someone knows something about you that you don’t when they give you a gift. You may have a sense of <em>something big</em> coming your way, and you tremble in anticipation of its arrival, but you don’t know the when, or what, or why of it until it happens. Then you look back at all the things that led up to it, and you recognize all that had to happen just so, at just the right time, in just the right way, against all odds, some that were good, some that were bad, some that you thought were completely inconsequential, and every hair stands on end.<br />
That’s convergence.<br />
<br />
We talked about how we take so many things in life for granted and then look back on them later and see events that were seemingly inconsequential at the time become significant. He told me about a lesson that he used to teach his students as a high school English teacher where he would put together a calendar containing all the days of about 80 years in one sheet. He would invite all the kids to come look down on the document laid out on the floor, and he would tell them, in effect, “Look closely at this. This represents all of your days. Don’t waste them.” I imagined seeing that calendar at the beginning of my life, and at the end. At the beginning I imagined being full of hope for all the days I still had ahead of me. At the end I might be filled with regret at what I had never done, now faced with nothing left. <br />
<br />
When he told me about this I had just finished reading an amazing book by Donald Miller (who is now one of my favorite authors) titled, “A Million Miles in a Thousand Years”. In it he talks about how to look at your life as a story, and how to write a better one. In the book Miller says this: “What I'm saying is I think life is staggering and we're just used to it. We all are like spoiled children no longer impressed with the gifts we're given - it's just another sunset, just another rainstorm moving in over the mountain, just another child being born, just another funeral.”<br />
It made me realize how much I take for granted in every day life.<br />
<br />
Marc said when he thought about how my wife and I came together it was like a convergence of events that had been put in motion long before. We had each gone through so many things that caused us to be made for each other. <br />
After my first wife died, and I began to consider dating as an actual possibility, I remember wondering if it was really worth it to start another relationship. I was 52 and wondered if I had enough time left to really build a life with someone again. Was starting over really worth it? I eventually came to understand that I was giving the concept of time control over my life. Time is a tool, not a god, and I have all the time I need regardless of when I start something new. My success in life is not necessarily measured by what I <em>complete</em>. It’s more by what I allow love to motivate me to <em>do</em>. A relationship is not a task to be accomplished, but rather a love to be nurtured to the point that it cannot die, and that is not a function of time but of <em>devotion</em>.<br />
It took me a while to learn this. I had some painful stumbles, and made my share of mistakes, but then Brenda was there, through no plan of my own. All the things that had been set in motion throughout our lives brought us to the <em>right</em> place, the <em>right</em> time, the <em>right</em> person.<br />
This reminded me of something I had thought of a few weeks earlier and hadn’t told anyone about. I was thinking about how God had so long ago set in motion the events that brought us together and made us <em>fit</em>. I imagined it as though when God made the universe He made a perfect baseball, and He pitched that baseball out into the ether, then turned back to creating the world. But that ball travelled across space and time and eons and epochs and eras. Through all the events of the world from the beginning that ball was travelling in the background where no one but Him knew of its presence. Then one day, against all odds, I was in a stadium, completely unqualified to stand at the plate, holding the perfect bat, with no pitcher on the mound. All of a sudden I knew it was this very moment I had been made for. I knew something was coming my way, and I heard His voice echo across the heavens when He said, <br />
“NOW!”<br />
And I took that perfect bat, and I made a perfect swing with every ounce of my being, and that ball that had travelled all across time and distance from forever came down out of the sky in the most perfect of arcs to meet that swing, AND I HIT THAT BALL RIGHT OUT OF THE PARK BACK INTO THE UNIVERSE FOR ALL THE WORLD TO SEE!<br />
<br />
And that is what it was like to fall in love with my wife, and I think of it that way every day.<br />
<br />
Convergence. It’s a God thing.<br />
©Dan Bode 2016Dan-ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498485884852538560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6222880919962709217.post-66759511067429036452016-03-26T22:13:00.002-07:002016-03-26T22:14:02.118-07:00What Do You Do With a Second-Hand Grave?<div class="MsoNormal">
Jesus had a habit of using things for purposes other than
what we intended them for.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When He arrived in Jerusalem on what we call Palm Sunday,
everyone was getting ready for Passover.
He had sent a few of the disciples ahead of Him to secure the place
where they would share the Passover meal.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then when they finally get to the night where they sat
together to celebrate the Passover as each of them has for their entire life up
to this point Jesus does something different…..<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“This is My blood, drink in remembrance of me….”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Their ears certainly pricked up at this I’m sure. They definitely hadn’t heard that one before.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Ummm, excuse me Jesus?
I’m pretty sure that’s not how my dad taught me to do that….” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“This is My body, take and eat in remembrance of me….”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He used the Passover as something different than what they
had made of it then, but when the disciples all looked back on it later they
realized that in reality it had been all about Him from the beginning
anyway. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And then, on the Third Day, He rose from the dead.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That really kind of threw a wrench in things. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Even though He’d been telling everyone who
would listen that He would, they still didn’t actually expect it to happen. That’s not what graves are for.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And that begs the question:
Just exactly what do you do with a used grave?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A grave isn’t a grave until it has a dead body in it. Once it has a body in it it’s not like you’re
going to use it for something else. It’s
not a multi-purpose kind of thing, you know?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But a grave isn’t supposed to empty itself either is it?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What should have held Him securely for the rest of time
simply didn’t. He used for something
else. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What should have been the end, was instead used as a
beginning.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He used it as the launching point for the means of our
survival.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If I was the owner of that tomb, and stood in front of it a
few days after sealing a dead body inside, knowing that the person I had buried
actually did what He said He would do and rose again, I would wonder what to do
with it. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I could be practical, and keep trying to use it for what it
was originally intended for. I would
know for a fact that there would be another dead body to put in there sooner or
later. I’ve seen death often enough in
my own life to know the truth of this.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I tried putting myself in the shoes of Joseph of Arimathea,
staring at that stone that should have been <i>there</i>,
but was instead over <i>there</i>. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Seeing the grave clothes folded there instead
of being wrapped around the body where he had put them. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s difficult to fathom what could possibly be going
through his head at that moment, but I think I know what I’d do.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I think I’d move in.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To be where He had been, but wasn’t.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To live where death was defeated.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not present.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Had no authority.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Where the scent of mortal decay never lingered.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That would be a home like no other.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then I realize that I’d just be falling into the trap that
man has found himself in since the beginning.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We always want God to provide proof of Himself in what we
can touch, see, taste, and hear. Jesus
showed up and gave us all that, and there were plenty then who still didn’t get
it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But here’s the thing:
I don’t have to own the empty grave, or live in it, to know the truth of
what He’s done for me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All I need to
know is that there really is a second hand grave out there, and it failed in its
purpose the first time. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It won’t ever get a second chance, but I always will.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Happy Easter.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
© Dan Bode 2016<o:p></o:p></div>
Dan-ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498485884852538560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6222880919962709217.post-3892145615923413962015-12-06T19:35:00.000-08:002015-12-06T19:35:00.175-08:00With This Ring<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">There is a
ring on my finger that wasn't there before.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It fits like
my finger was made to wear it. I was
used to it the moment it slipped over my knuckle and rested there. It encompasses more than my finger. It’s in my bones and my heart. It is me, and it belongs to her. What God has brought together no man can
separate. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It is a
match to another ring on another finger, and they are both worn for a
purpose. This ring brings me home. It always points me to where I want to be, and
reminds me of that day when my heartbeat quickened, and settled into a new
rhythm upon sight of her. I want <i>this</i> ring to be with the <i>other</i> ring. I want to be where that love lives. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">This love is
the greatest I’ve ever known. It is love
without walls where the flow between us is constant and replenishes what we
have together. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8FWYNyUfC1bJjO97lhXm_7qOxF-2YmtXsEH9pFd2-aZZUywAkGzUr5KIVaL-Q3M0Hkwn2szQXF8eSumKCYosuteYsntKblBse50-W3iNZCCw5tFEYJH6-dfAD59LzVJcbo0SDu4lErGj3/s1600/Bode-10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8FWYNyUfC1bJjO97lhXm_7qOxF-2YmtXsEH9pFd2-aZZUywAkGzUr5KIVaL-Q3M0Hkwn2szQXF8eSumKCYosuteYsntKblBse50-W3iNZCCw5tFEYJH6-dfAD59LzVJcbo0SDu4lErGj3/s320/Bode-10.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The words,
“With this ring I thee wed…” were spoken with these specific rings in mind. They signify the bond we have committed
ourselves to. They represent the shield
that protects us from the elements of this world that seek to separate us. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">With this ring
I know who satisfies me. I have
confidence that we will not be separated by time or distance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">With this
ring I know where my heart belongs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">With this
ring I give valor, honor, and commitment to a woman for whom I have so little
to offer, yet who is worth so much, and accepts me as I am nonetheless.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">With this
ring the dust and ashes of the past are washed away. My path is clear from this point forward, and
my steps are sure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">With these
rings the words of our vows are embodied in the touchstones of reality.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">With this
ring I see that all the joys, all the sorrows, and all the mistakes I’ve made
have led me to this point. I get to be
the man who sees this ring on my finger, and the hand that wears the other one,
and the eyes that see me in return. The
eyes that hold the greatest treasure I could hope to have.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It was all
worth it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">©Dan Bode
2015<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Dan-ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498485884852538560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6222880919962709217.post-21551754066196099192015-05-17T17:34:00.001-07:002015-05-17T17:34:08.172-07:00Steps in the Right Direction<div class="MsoNormal">
So I sold my house the other day.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have never sold a house before, and I have to say it’s not
fun. It’s great when it’s all done for
sure, but the process stinks. There were
people in my house when I wasn’t there, whom I didn’t know. They were looking at my environment in order
to judge whether it was good enough for them, and therefore judging the quality
of my house. Then I realized that as I
am looking for a new house myself I am doing the same thing to others.
Ugh. I give them my sincere sympathy as
I judge their living space for its suitability to my desires. And the funny thing is that this is a
completely acceptable form of hypocrisy!
Oh the joy!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The reason I am selling is because I’ve finally reached a
point where I can take a step forward in the journey of my life. There have been times in my life where blessings
have poured down on me like a torrential rain that has left me breathless. Everything comes together like it was planned
that way when I did nothing but watch.
This is one of those times. Don’t
get me wrong; there have been plenty of times when I didn’t feel blessed at
all, and in fact thought I was plodding through a desert eating sand. I was carried through those times and they
have made the blessings that come after that much sweeter. I can say now looking back that the suffering
is made worth it by the blessing that came after. I didn’t feel that way then though.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This house was a good house for me. It did what it was supposed to do: provide
shelter, safety, warmth. A lot of stuff
happened there; some good, some bad.
Some dramatically bad and life changing.
I learned that a house is not necessarily a home. A house is not defined by the events that
occur within its walls. It only becomes
a home by the spirit with which you imbue it.
So the spirit of my home is completely dependent on me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For a long time my home was not so welcoming for me. It was a place to sleep. Many years of my life were spent occupying
space in someone else’s home, and so I didn’t have an opportunity to learn how
to make a home for myself. When I was
alone I didn’t know how to “become” my home.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And then I met a woman, and my eyes were opened.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the process of preparing my house to be sold I needed to
make some changes. There was painting
and landscaping and cleanup. Then it had
to be “staged”. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Staging is an odd concept for me. You have to make the house look like it’s
lived in, but you can’t leave it looking like it has actually <i>been</i> lived in. You have to decorate and arrange it so people
can see its potential rather than its reality.
Believe me when I tell you that my life was spent hiding its potential
with discarded clothes and way too much furniture. I didn’t realize how much “stuff” I still had
that crowded my life until it was gone.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Here is where this woman helped me recognize what I needed
to do.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Brenda has an eye for color and decoration. In fact I would say she is truly gifted in
this area. So when it came time to stage
the house I asked her to take a look at things and see what she could do. So she did, and it changed everything.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When she was done I found that I actually loved this
house. It felt like home again. It was decorated to suit me and be
useful. It wasn’t just a place to take
up space anymore. When I walked in I
realized that if I had understood what to do and how to express it I would have
done exactly what she did. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I told this to my friend Cliff one day and he said, “So she
made your dreams come true?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes! That’s it!” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She came in and chose to know and understand me, and I
her. I chose to allow her in, and know
her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s ironic, though appropriate, that I got my home after <i>she</i> touched it, and now have to leave it
behind. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is a good thing, because
now I get to marry her. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now <i>we</i> get to make
a new home. There will be a better
spirit there, a better purpose. A better
life.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We’ve both been through enough of life that we understand
what we want in our home. We started the
relationship in honesty and have continued to build it that way. So as we look for a new house we look at it
in terms of how it will be suited to conform to our desires.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We will make it ours.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s a wonderfully odd thing for me to be able to live in a
relationship without walls. To have an
opinion and have it heard and respected, and still be loved for it whether she
agrees with me or not, and not lose my sense of self in the process. We complement each other in so many ways that
we are starting to finish each other’s sentences. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s weird. In a
totally good way though!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Leaving the house itself is actually more difficult than I
expected. When you’ve lived in
one space for long enough there are attachments both good and bad. Buying this house turned out to be the one
decision in my marriage where there was no argument or discussion
necessary. We both felt that this was
the place we needed to be, and being there, for me at least, was a key to my
survival.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My neighbors are also my friends (most of them anyway), and
that relationship overcomes the physical distance that moving will create. So, for a while yet, even though I don’t live
there anymore, I will still automatically drive to that place because that’s
what I’ve done for so long. It’s part of
me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is some difficulty in letting it all go. As I went through the process of first
realizing that I still had more stuff than I really wanted, and then getting
rid of it, I uncovered many things I forgot I had. I still had the pins the doctor pulled out of
my hand when I broke it in high school, and my Webelo/Boy Scout badges from my
childhood to name a few. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Once I moved everything out of the house I started the
cleanup. I went from room to room
vacuuming, sweeping, cleaning. As I
finished one room I backed out and closed the door. This room was my room. A lot of history there. This was my daughters’ room. I said goodnight to them there. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Down the hall and into the living/dining area. I spent more time here than anywhere else I
think. All the family activities
occurred here. A lot of wood went
through that fireplace, and I finally got that wood burning insert that I had
always wanted.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then the kitchen.
Cleaning all the drawers, countertops and shelves for the last time, and
mopping the floor. I backed up to the
door to the garage with the mop, and shut the door for the last time. I loaded up the car with the last of
everything and drove away.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I learned a great deal while I lived there. I learned what real love is. I learned what real commitment means. I learned about promises and sacrifice. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I walked out of that house a better man than when I
walked in 17 years ago.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Everything I learned there I will take with me and put it
all in our new home. It will serve as a
foundation for what is to come.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because here’s the thing: I’m not just leaving a house. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m changing my <i>destination</i>. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_GoBack"></a>For 17 years every road I have
traveled on has ultimately ended here at <i>this</i>
structure. No matter how far away I was
when I got on the plane or got in the car I took the steps that led me
<i>here</i>. When I turned the corner this
house was always there. At the end of
every day I came to <i>this</i> place.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>I’m changing my way
home</i>. Home will be Brenda now, and I
will be Home for her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No more baby steps. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All big steps, and all in the right direction.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
©Dan Bode 2015</div>
Dan-ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04498485884852538560noreply@blogger.com0