So yesterday was Father’s day. I hope all you Fathers out there had a great day.
My day was pretty good.. Before we left for church, Adam gave me a t-shirt that he bought with his own money. It’s a black shirt with all of the Marvel Comics superheroes on it. I was an avid collector of comic books for quite a few years so the t-shirt is pretty awesome.
After church we stopped by Walmart to look at dehumidifiers. We really need one for the basement, it’s so damp down there and keeps getting moldy. Walmart was all out of them. The lady said a lot of people have been buying them lately but they had some more coming in on a truck later in the day. Joni will have to look again when she does the shopping on Tuesday.
After Walmart, we stopped and picked up some lunch at Taco John’s. I hadn’t had Taco John's since coming back to Nebraska last year and I've really been wanting to. Since it was my choice yesterday, that's what I picked. We brought the food home and ate here.
After we ate, we drove into Gibbon to Mom’s house to borrow a mop bucket. We needed that for the basement which we are giving a thorough cleaning. We sat around Mom's for a while talking about the house she’s buying. This will be the first house she’s owned so she’s pretty excited about it. The rest of the family is pretty excited too.
It was about three o’clock when we got home from Mom’s and just as we were walking in the door my phone rang. It was Brenna calling to say happy Father’s day. I have to admit, I didn't think she would, although I was secretly hoping for an email or aFacebook message. A phone call was even better.
After that, I had to get to work on the basement. Saturday I had pulled everything out of the storage room down there. So Yesterday I scrubbed the walls and floor with bleach. Joni did some research and found out that bleach or vinegar are the best things for mold, and I sure didn’t want the whole basement smelling like vinegar. I couldn’t put the stuff back in the room afterward because the floor wouldn't dry. I ended up letting it sit overnight. Joni says it's dry today so everything can go back in there now. Then it will be time to tackle the main room which is pretty big.
After all that, I took a shower and relaxed for a while. Then I played my sax. I haven't done that for several weeks and it sure felt good.
Shortly before we went to bed, it looked like it was going to storm, but we only heard a few distant rumbles of thunder and then it cleared up. During the night we ended up getting two storms. The first was small, but the second one, at around four-thirty, was pretty loud. I still have some light perception in one eye so I can see the lightning flashes. It was going like a strobe light. The thunder was very loud and the wind came up pretty hard. I think I heard a little bit of hail too but not bad. I was pretty tired, though, and I fell asleep even though the storm was pretty loud. I like thunderstorms at night, just like blizzards, but I can do without the wind.
Psalms 103:13 As a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him;
Showing posts with label mom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mom. Show all posts
Monday, June 21, 2010
Friday, June 11, 2010
Journal - The Amherst Play
Last evening, Thursday, Joni, Adam, Mom and myself drove over to Amherst for the annual Amherst play. Amherst is a small town, just over two hundred people, northwest of Kearney, about a 45 minute drive from Gibbon. This year marked the 30th anniversary of the Amherst play, but that isn't what made the night special. The main attraction at this year’s play, a talent show in the style of the old Hee-Haw variety show, was my daughter,Brenna.
Brenna sang a solo, the second verse of “This Land is Your Land", and also played a solo on her violin. This was the first time I got to hear Brenna sing by herself and she has a beautiful, high voice. I don’t know the name of the song she played on the violin, it was kind of a country-ish fiddle-sounding piece. It's the third time I've heard her play and she is getting better all the time. In addition to those two parts, Brenna also had one spoken line where she delivered the punch-line to one of those silly jokes they were always doing on Hee-Haw.
It was an enjoyable evening, even though it was deathly hot and humid in Amherst’s little gymnasium. One of the highlights of the evening was when they sang the old favorite:
Where, oh where, are you tonight?
Why did you leave me here all alone?
I searched the worldover,
And thought I found true love.
But you met another and p-l-l-l-t, you were gone!
After the first sweltering hour, there was an intermission and we decided to leave since Brenna's parts were done anyway. Adam took some video on our digital camera so I'll be looking forward to watching that someday.
On the way home, we stopped at McDonald’s for some sodas and dropped Mom off at the shop where her car was getting some work so she could drive it home.
I had a good time. I love the small-town life.
Psalms 150:3-6 Praise him with the sounding of the trumpet, praise him with the harp and lyre, praise him with tambourine and dancing, praise him with the strings and flute, praise him with the clash of cymbals, praise him with resounding cymbals. Let everything that has breath praise the Lord!
Brenna sang a solo, the second verse of “This Land is Your Land", and also played a solo on her violin. This was the first time I got to hear Brenna sing by herself and she has a beautiful, high voice. I don’t know the name of the song she played on the violin, it was kind of a country-ish fiddle-sounding piece. It's the third time I've heard her play and she is getting better all the time. In addition to those two parts, Brenna also had one spoken line where she delivered the punch-line to one of those silly jokes they were always doing on Hee-Haw.
It was an enjoyable evening, even though it was deathly hot and humid in Amherst’s little gymnasium. One of the highlights of the evening was when they sang the old favorite:
Where, oh where, are you tonight?
Why did you leave me here all alone?
I searched the worldover,
And thought I found true love.
But you met another and p-l-l-l-t, you were gone!
After the first sweltering hour, there was an intermission and we decided to leave since Brenna's parts were done anyway. Adam took some video on our digital camera so I'll be looking forward to watching that someday.
On the way home, we stopped at McDonald’s for some sodas and dropped Mom off at the shop where her car was getting some work so she could drive it home.
I had a good time. I love the small-town life.
Psalms 150:3-6 Praise him with the sounding of the trumpet, praise him with the harp and lyre, praise him with tambourine and dancing, praise him with the strings and flute, praise him with the clash of cymbals, praise him with resounding cymbals. Let everything that has breath praise the Lord!
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Memories - Grandpa Howard
Okay, for a few weeks now I’ve really been wanting to write something about my Grandpa. Grandpa Howard, that is, who was Mom’s dad. I think he’s been on my mind because his birthday was December 11, close to my own. I never got around to it because there’s just been too many other things to write about lately. Then, right before Thanksgiving, Uncle Butch brought the wind-chime. I mentioned that briefly in an earlier post, but really wanted to tell more about it. The two things are closely related, though, so I can cover both with one blog. I kind of think Grandpa would have appreciated the efficiency in that. Read on!
The first thing that always comes to mind when I think of Grandpa, is the bucket. He had this plastic, bluish-green bucket, nothing special. The bucket had split all the way down one side and about halfway across the bottom. Instead of just throwing it away, he actually stitched it back together. Yes, I said stitched. He punched holes all the way along both sides of the split, then used little pieces of wire to fasten the two halves together. I can't imagine how much time he must have spent on that bucket, and I don't know what he used the bucket for after that. Obviously it wouldn’t hold water anymore. I’m sure he found a use for it though. All that work for a bucket that probably cost less than a dollar. That's the kind of guy he was.
Which brings me to the wind-chime. Grandpa Howard made the wind-chime himself. And he made it out of junk, hahaha. Seriously, though, he started with the metal rim of a paint can to suspend the chimes from. I can't remember what the clapper part was made from, but the wind-catcher part was just a flat piece of tin suspended from a rusty bit of chain. The chimes themselves were made from old shock-absorbers. He cut them to different lengths to give them different tones. The whole thing is held together by pieces of baling wire. An the coolest part is, that it really has a nice sound to it. Who would have guessed that old shock-absorbers could sound so nice. Anyway, I remember the chime hanging on the back of Grandma and Grandpa's house when I was very young, so that's what makes it so special to me. And the way he took all that junk and put it together into something that sounds so beautiful speaks volumes about the man.
Let me see, what else? Mom told me about his coveralls one time. He would wear these coveralls when he was working in his shop or around the yard. Mom told me that when they got a hole, he would patch them up. He would patch them and patch them, until they were nothing but patches. When he finally got a new pair, he would save the old ones to make patches out of. Wow, if only more people were like that. So many things in our lives have become disposable.
Are you starting to get a feel for what kind of man he was? God wants us to be goodand faithful stewards with the things He gives us, and Grandpa Howard is one of the best examples of this I have ever encountered. And he didn't do it because he was cheap or stingy, he did it because it was the right thing to do.
Grandpa Howard died in June of 1982, when I was only 11, making him the first of my four grandparents to pass. I was at church camp when it happened. Mom sent both of my brothers along with a family friend to BRING ME HOME. I remember my counselor walking me up to the dining hall at Camp Merrill, telling me that I had some visitors. That was odd because you didn't typically get visitors at camp, and when we got there I was pleased to see my brothers. I looked to Kevin right away and said "What are you doing here?" But it was Brad, the oldest, who took me aside. He leaned over with hands on knees and said, “Grandpa died last night; Grandpa Howard, and we're here to take you home.” As soon as he said the word “Grandpa”, I was thinking Grandpa Pete, (who was actually great Grandpa Pete, and quite old), but Brad clarified right away leaving me pretty stunned. I had always believed Grandpa Howard to be in very good shape for an old person, and he would have been my last guess. Anyway, I gathered up my things and we left. Mom knew what she was doing. She sent Brad to be the one to break the news, and she sent Kevin because she knew he could make me laugh. Which he did, all the way home. It was kind of a long drive. She also sent family friend, Dan, who was a pretty fun guy. I remember stopping for lunch at Pizza Hut on the way home.
When we finally arrived at Grandma’s house, Grandma said “Oh Steven, come here.” I went and sat on her lap, the only time I ever remember doing that in my whole life. I remember being afraid that I might hurt her because I was too heavy. My cousin Christopher, just a baby of 6 months, was crying and I remember Grandma saying, “I think babies can sense when something is wrong.”
And Christopher is the last part of the story. Of course, I didn’t know at the time, but have learned since how important it was to Grandpa for the Howard name to be carried on. Grandpa had two sons. One has never married to this day, the other married but waited until much later in life than usual to have children. My mother had four kids, but of course our names were not Howard. Anyway, little Christopher was finally born in January of 1982. Just six months before Grandpa died. I truly believe that was Grandpa’s reward for being such a good and faithful steward. He got to stay on earth just long enough to know his grandson a little bit.
What a shining example of how rich and full our lives can be, if we only put God first. I really didn’t know Grandpa Howard very long, and I was too young to appreciate the man he was, but he sure made an impact on my life. I wish I could have known him better, but I’m thankful for the time I had with him.
Luke 12:42 And the Lord said, Who then is that faithful and wise steward, whom his lord shall make ruler over his household, to give them their portion of meat in due season?
Matthew 25:21 His lord said unto him, Well done, thou good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord.
The first thing that always comes to mind when I think of Grandpa, is the bucket. He had this plastic, bluish-green bucket, nothing special. The bucket had split all the way down one side and about halfway across the bottom. Instead of just throwing it away, he actually stitched it back together. Yes, I said stitched. He punched holes all the way along both sides of the split, then used little pieces of wire to fasten the two halves together. I can't imagine how much time he must have spent on that bucket, and I don't know what he used the bucket for after that. Obviously it wouldn’t hold water anymore. I’m sure he found a use for it though. All that work for a bucket that probably cost less than a dollar. That's the kind of guy he was.
Which brings me to the wind-chime. Grandpa Howard made the wind-chime himself. And he made it out of junk, hahaha. Seriously, though, he started with the metal rim of a paint can to suspend the chimes from. I can't remember what the clapper part was made from, but the wind-catcher part was just a flat piece of tin suspended from a rusty bit of chain. The chimes themselves were made from old shock-absorbers. He cut them to different lengths to give them different tones. The whole thing is held together by pieces of baling wire. An the coolest part is, that it really has a nice sound to it. Who would have guessed that old shock-absorbers could sound so nice. Anyway, I remember the chime hanging on the back of Grandma and Grandpa's house when I was very young, so that's what makes it so special to me. And the way he took all that junk and put it together into something that sounds so beautiful speaks volumes about the man.
Let me see, what else? Mom told me about his coveralls one time. He would wear these coveralls when he was working in his shop or around the yard. Mom told me that when they got a hole, he would patch them up. He would patch them and patch them, until they were nothing but patches. When he finally got a new pair, he would save the old ones to make patches out of. Wow, if only more people were like that. So many things in our lives have become disposable.
Are you starting to get a feel for what kind of man he was? God wants us to be goodand faithful stewards with the things He gives us, and Grandpa Howard is one of the best examples of this I have ever encountered. And he didn't do it because he was cheap or stingy, he did it because it was the right thing to do.
Grandpa Howard died in June of 1982, when I was only 11, making him the first of my four grandparents to pass. I was at church camp when it happened. Mom sent both of my brothers along with a family friend to BRING ME HOME. I remember my counselor walking me up to the dining hall at Camp Merrill, telling me that I had some visitors. That was odd because you didn't typically get visitors at camp, and when we got there I was pleased to see my brothers. I looked to Kevin right away and said "What are you doing here?" But it was Brad, the oldest, who took me aside. He leaned over with hands on knees and said, “Grandpa died last night; Grandpa Howard, and we're here to take you home.” As soon as he said the word “Grandpa”, I was thinking Grandpa Pete, (who was actually great Grandpa Pete, and quite old), but Brad clarified right away leaving me pretty stunned. I had always believed Grandpa Howard to be in very good shape for an old person, and he would have been my last guess. Anyway, I gathered up my things and we left. Mom knew what she was doing. She sent Brad to be the one to break the news, and she sent Kevin because she knew he could make me laugh. Which he did, all the way home. It was kind of a long drive. She also sent family friend, Dan, who was a pretty fun guy. I remember stopping for lunch at Pizza Hut on the way home.
When we finally arrived at Grandma’s house, Grandma said “Oh Steven, come here.” I went and sat on her lap, the only time I ever remember doing that in my whole life. I remember being afraid that I might hurt her because I was too heavy. My cousin Christopher, just a baby of 6 months, was crying and I remember Grandma saying, “I think babies can sense when something is wrong.”
And Christopher is the last part of the story. Of course, I didn’t know at the time, but have learned since how important it was to Grandpa for the Howard name to be carried on. Grandpa had two sons. One has never married to this day, the other married but waited until much later in life than usual to have children. My mother had four kids, but of course our names were not Howard. Anyway, little Christopher was finally born in January of 1982. Just six months before Grandpa died. I truly believe that was Grandpa’s reward for being such a good and faithful steward. He got to stay on earth just long enough to know his grandson a little bit.
What a shining example of how rich and full our lives can be, if we only put God first. I really didn’t know Grandpa Howard very long, and I was too young to appreciate the man he was, but he sure made an impact on my life. I wish I could have known him better, but I’m thankful for the time I had with him.
Luke 12:42 And the Lord said, Who then is that faithful and wise steward, whom his lord shall make ruler over his household, to give them their portion of meat in due season?
Matthew 25:21 His lord said unto him, Well done, thou good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Heavy Heart
So here it is, 1 o’clock in the morning and I can’t sleep. Again. This has been going on for several nights now. I have asthma and it’s been acting up pretty bad lately. It’s harder to breathe lying down so for a few nights I was sleeping in shifts of a couple hours at a time. My asthma has been a little better lately though, and I’ve been able to lie down much better. I still can’t sleep though, ecause I just have too much on my mind.
What’s on my mind? Well, I suppose I should back up a little and explain this properly.
I’ve already talked about some of this. I went blind a while back and have been drawing social security. The payments I’m getting are barely enough to pay our bills, but the government says I’m earning too much to get Medicaid. Medicare is out also because I have to be disabled for two years before I qualify. If I had some kind of medical coverage, I could get my sight back because my problem is correctible by surgery.
Well, my mom kept telling me not to worry about that; that she would come up with the money somehow. I kept turning her down because I truly did not feel like that was what God wanted. It seemed like everytime I was tempted to take matters into my own hands and make something happen, I kept getting the message “wait.”
So, anyway, about three months ago the last of my asthma medicine ran out. I tried really hard to put my trust in God to take care of me, but to tell you the truth I was really scared about what was going to happen. In spite of my fears, when the medicine ran out, I was fine! God totally came through for me! For the next ten weeks or so, life was pretty good. I can't tell you how good it felt to be free of that medicine.
Then a couple of weeks ago, it finally caught up with me. My asthma hasn’t been that bad for about 4 years, when I ended up in the hospital for a week. I had a particularly bad evening a couple of nights ago, and I told Mom Iwas ready to take her up on her offer.
So now I face the prospect of getting some health insurance and possibly getting my sight back. Sounds like a pretty good deal. The problem is that now I’m wondering; is this what God intended, or am I trying to take matters into my own hands again? I really don’t know the answer to that, and that’s what is keeping me up at night, now that my asthma is settling down a little.
I know that God doesn’t want us to suffer. But I also know that sometimes he places challenges before us so that “the works of God should be made manifest,” just like it says in John chapter 9. So I guess the question is; has my disability brought glory to God? That’s kind of what this blog has been all about, but did it reach anyone? In my vanity, I envisioned testifying to thousands of people and converting every one of them to Christ, but of course I know it doesn’t always work that way. This whole thing may have been for one particular person out there; someone who just needed to hear someone talk about God; someone who I may never even know exists. Hmm, I need to read “The 5 People You Meet In Heaven” again.
Well, all I can do is pray about it, and hope that I am doing the right thing. It all comes down to faith. I have to have faith that God will lead me to where He wants me to be. Faith is such a small thing; such a huge thing; the only thing.
John 9:1-3 And as Jesus passed by, He saw a man which was blind from his birth. And His disciples asked him, saying, Master, who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind? Jesus answered, Neither has this man sinned, nor his parents: but that the works of God should be made manifest in him.
What’s on my mind? Well, I suppose I should back up a little and explain this properly.
I’ve already talked about some of this. I went blind a while back and have been drawing social security. The payments I’m getting are barely enough to pay our bills, but the government says I’m earning too much to get Medicaid. Medicare is out also because I have to be disabled for two years before I qualify. If I had some kind of medical coverage, I could get my sight back because my problem is correctible by surgery.
Well, my mom kept telling me not to worry about that; that she would come up with the money somehow. I kept turning her down because I truly did not feel like that was what God wanted. It seemed like everytime I was tempted to take matters into my own hands and make something happen, I kept getting the message “wait.”
So, anyway, about three months ago the last of my asthma medicine ran out. I tried really hard to put my trust in God to take care of me, but to tell you the truth I was really scared about what was going to happen. In spite of my fears, when the medicine ran out, I was fine! God totally came through for me! For the next ten weeks or so, life was pretty good. I can't tell you how good it felt to be free of that medicine.
Then a couple of weeks ago, it finally caught up with me. My asthma hasn’t been that bad for about 4 years, when I ended up in the hospital for a week. I had a particularly bad evening a couple of nights ago, and I told Mom Iwas ready to take her up on her offer.
So now I face the prospect of getting some health insurance and possibly getting my sight back. Sounds like a pretty good deal. The problem is that now I’m wondering; is this what God intended, or am I trying to take matters into my own hands again? I really don’t know the answer to that, and that’s what is keeping me up at night, now that my asthma is settling down a little.
I know that God doesn’t want us to suffer. But I also know that sometimes he places challenges before us so that “the works of God should be made manifest,” just like it says in John chapter 9. So I guess the question is; has my disability brought glory to God? That’s kind of what this blog has been all about, but did it reach anyone? In my vanity, I envisioned testifying to thousands of people and converting every one of them to Christ, but of course I know it doesn’t always work that way. This whole thing may have been for one particular person out there; someone who just needed to hear someone talk about God; someone who I may never even know exists. Hmm, I need to read “The 5 People You Meet In Heaven” again.
Well, all I can do is pray about it, and hope that I am doing the right thing. It all comes down to faith. I have to have faith that God will lead me to where He wants me to be. Faith is such a small thing; such a huge thing; the only thing.
John 9:1-3 And as Jesus passed by, He saw a man which was blind from his birth. And His disciples asked him, saying, Master, who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind? Jesus answered, Neither has this man sinned, nor his parents: but that the works of God should be made manifest in him.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Memories; Children of the Corn
Hi there! If you’ve been to Drums In The Deep before, I’m very glad to have you back. If this is your first visit, welcome!
I think I said in an earlier post that I wasn’t going to bore you with long descriptions of life in the Midwest, but I’ve changed my mind. “Captain’s Prerogative” as Jean-Luc Picard would say. Being back home here in Nebraska has left me feeling kind of nostalgic so I thought I would explore that a little bit.
When I was a child, during the mid 1970’s this was, we had to be a little more creative in our entertainment than kids today. The internet was still 20 years away. Computers had already been invented, of course, but the smallest model would have been roughly the size of the house my family lived in. Heck, the Atari game system wasn’t even around yet. Also, we lived “in the country” which meant that during summer vacation we rarely, if ever, saw our friends from school. No, it was pretty much just my three siblings and me.
We had fun though, don’t get me wrong. When you live on a farm there are always things to explore and fun places to play. The thing I remember most about those long summers is the corn.
The house we grew up in was bordered closely on two sides by cornfields. In the spring and early summer Dad would always be in the field, driving his tractor up and down the long rows. Planting, cultivating, ridging, spraying: I can’t imagine the hours he must have spent out there.
Sometimes when Dad was working in the field, Mom would be in the kitchen baking chocolate-chip cookies. Dad liked them without the chips, what a weirdo. She would bake him some plain ones before adding the chocolate, put them in a container, and send me outside with them. I would stand at the edge of our yard, right where it bordered the cornfield, and wait for the tractor to pass by. When it did, I would walk out to meet it. Dad would stop the tractor and help me up into the cab so I could give him his cookies. Then he would let me sit on his lap for a while and steer the tractor. Not that there was much steering to do. I got to hold onto the wheel though, and that was pretty darn cool.
By late June or so, the tractor work would be done and there was nothing to do but watch the corn grow. Corn grows pretty fast and it also grows pretty tall. If you’ve never been up close to a cornfield you may not realize that the stalks can grow to a height of seven feet or more. To a kid of 6 or 7 years, that is an awesome height. Once the corn was over our heads, the real fun would begin.
There would be endless games of tag, or hide-and-seek out in the corn. We would trample a few stalks down here and there to make paths and mazes to play in. Until Grandpa found out, that is. He was not impressed. It’s hard for me to put into words what a magical place that was to play in. Wonderful and a little scary all at the same time. Secretive and exciting. What if we got lost out there someday and couldn’t find our way back to the yard? Being the youngest, that probably bothered me more than the older kids. But I always felt safe with my brothers and sister.
Well, the impossibly long summers always managed to end very abruptly, and then it was time to go back to school. As September faded into October, the corn would gradually ripen and begin to turn dry and brown. Then one day we would come home from school and the combine would be making its rounds, slowly gobbling up the corn.
Those golden days of late October stand out so clearly in my mind. Watching Dad drive the combine back and forth across the field, stopping occasionally to dump the picked and shelled corn into one of the trucks. And how strange to see the old trucks moving around! All year they just sat there like museum relics, and now they were moving around; lumbering dinosaur skeletons suddenly come to life!
Before we knew it, the corn was all gone and there was nothing left but empty husks and chaff blowing up into the yard. That was a little sad, but also kind of new and exciting. After being boxed in by the corn all those months, suddenly we could see for miles in every direction. Like the whole world had been opened up to us. So long corn, see you next summer.
Those were the good old days. My family was not well off, we didn’t have much in the way of material possessions, but somehow that never bothered us. We had each other and that was enough. I have a family of my own now, and how I long to give them the kind of life I had. It’s not within my means to give this to them, but you know what? We have each other, and that’s enough.
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Matthew 9:37-38 Then saith He unto His disciples, “The harvest truly is plentiful, but the laborers are few. Pray ye, therefore, the Lord of the harvest, that He will send forth laborers into His harvest.”
I think I said in an earlier post that I wasn’t going to bore you with long descriptions of life in the Midwest, but I’ve changed my mind. “Captain’s Prerogative” as Jean-Luc Picard would say. Being back home here in Nebraska has left me feeling kind of nostalgic so I thought I would explore that a little bit.
When I was a child, during the mid 1970’s this was, we had to be a little more creative in our entertainment than kids today. The internet was still 20 years away. Computers had already been invented, of course, but the smallest model would have been roughly the size of the house my family lived in. Heck, the Atari game system wasn’t even around yet. Also, we lived “in the country” which meant that during summer vacation we rarely, if ever, saw our friends from school. No, it was pretty much just my three siblings and me.
We had fun though, don’t get me wrong. When you live on a farm there are always things to explore and fun places to play. The thing I remember most about those long summers is the corn.
The house we grew up in was bordered closely on two sides by cornfields. In the spring and early summer Dad would always be in the field, driving his tractor up and down the long rows. Planting, cultivating, ridging, spraying: I can’t imagine the hours he must have spent out there.
Sometimes when Dad was working in the field, Mom would be in the kitchen baking chocolate-chip cookies. Dad liked them without the chips, what a weirdo. She would bake him some plain ones before adding the chocolate, put them in a container, and send me outside with them. I would stand at the edge of our yard, right where it bordered the cornfield, and wait for the tractor to pass by. When it did, I would walk out to meet it. Dad would stop the tractor and help me up into the cab so I could give him his cookies. Then he would let me sit on his lap for a while and steer the tractor. Not that there was much steering to do. I got to hold onto the wheel though, and that was pretty darn cool.
By late June or so, the tractor work would be done and there was nothing to do but watch the corn grow. Corn grows pretty fast and it also grows pretty tall. If you’ve never been up close to a cornfield you may not realize that the stalks can grow to a height of seven feet or more. To a kid of 6 or 7 years, that is an awesome height. Once the corn was over our heads, the real fun would begin.
There would be endless games of tag, or hide-and-seek out in the corn. We would trample a few stalks down here and there to make paths and mazes to play in. Until Grandpa found out, that is. He was not impressed. It’s hard for me to put into words what a magical place that was to play in. Wonderful and a little scary all at the same time. Secretive and exciting. What if we got lost out there someday and couldn’t find our way back to the yard? Being the youngest, that probably bothered me more than the older kids. But I always felt safe with my brothers and sister.
Well, the impossibly long summers always managed to end very abruptly, and then it was time to go back to school. As September faded into October, the corn would gradually ripen and begin to turn dry and brown. Then one day we would come home from school and the combine would be making its rounds, slowly gobbling up the corn.
Those golden days of late October stand out so clearly in my mind. Watching Dad drive the combine back and forth across the field, stopping occasionally to dump the picked and shelled corn into one of the trucks. And how strange to see the old trucks moving around! All year they just sat there like museum relics, and now they were moving around; lumbering dinosaur skeletons suddenly come to life!
Before we knew it, the corn was all gone and there was nothing left but empty husks and chaff blowing up into the yard. That was a little sad, but also kind of new and exciting. After being boxed in by the corn all those months, suddenly we could see for miles in every direction. Like the whole world had been opened up to us. So long corn, see you next summer.
Those were the good old days. My family was not well off, we didn’t have much in the way of material possessions, but somehow that never bothered us. We had each other and that was enough. I have a family of my own now, and how I long to give them the kind of life I had. It’s not within my means to give this to them, but you know what? We have each other, and that’s enough.
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Matthew 9:37-38 Then saith He unto His disciples, “The harvest truly is plentiful, but the laborers are few. Pray ye, therefore, the Lord of the harvest, that He will send forth laborers into His harvest.”
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Going Blind- Part 2
Let’s see now, where was I? Oh yes I remember; blind in my left eye but still with good vision in the right.
I was divorced by this time and had met Joni although she was still living in Baltimore. The thing that really helped me was knowing that the damage to my eye was not permanent. My cornea was ruined, but corneas can be transplanted. It was a lot of waiting though. My doctor had to make sure the infection was totally healed and would not come back before she would do any surgery.
Now, I want to explain how these transplants work. Once a cornea has been removed from the donor it can only be stored for five days. So the surgery is scheduled a month in advance without really knowing if there will be a cornea available or not. The day before the surgery they call you to let you know if they got one. Unfortunately I didn’t know that. My doctor never explained it and it never even occurred to me to ask.
I was so excited as the day of my surgery approached. I was living in Dallas at this time and Mom was driving all the way down from Nebraska to be there with me. The day before the surgery, they called me and said they did not have a cornea for me. I was flabbergasted to say the least. I had to call Mom and give her the news (she was more than halfway to Texas by then). She decided to turn around and go back so she could save her vacation time for when the surgery really happened. Years later she told me she felt bad about turning back but I totally agreed with her decision.
Anyway that was in January 2003, I think. They went ahead and re-scheduled the surgery for February. I began getting my hopes up all over again even though I tried not to.
The day before my surgery arrived again and this time I was prepared. I wasn’t going to let them surprise me again so I called that morning and asked if they had a cornea for me. They did! I was so excited! Mom was on the road again and I called her right away so she wouldn’t have to worry.
That afternoon the doctor’s office called me back. The cornea didn’t pass all the tests. Tests?? Yep, the cornea has to be tested for HIV and other things. That makes perfect sense but I didn’t know about that at the time. I was beyond crushed. I knew Mom was only a couple of hours away by then and I didn’t have the heart to call her so I just let her drive the rest of the way. The doctor wanted to re-schedule again but I said no. I just couldn’t go through it again.
In May of that year, Joni and Adam came to Dallas to live with me and Joni started talking me into re-scheduling the surgery. I finally relented in October and they scheduled me for November.
This time everything worked out. I got my new cornea on November 7. The doctor said I could take the bandage off the next morning, and when I did I could see! I had almost perfect vision in both eyes again after waiting for two years. Maybe God was just waiting until Joni was with me so I wouldn’t be alone for this. Certainly He was trying to teach me patience.
Well, obviously this is STILL not the end of the story but I will have to leave it here for this week. I warned you that this might take awhile. I hope you’ll come back to hear the rest!
Psalms 27:14 Wait on the LORD: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the LORD.
I was divorced by this time and had met Joni although she was still living in Baltimore. The thing that really helped me was knowing that the damage to my eye was not permanent. My cornea was ruined, but corneas can be transplanted. It was a lot of waiting though. My doctor had to make sure the infection was totally healed and would not come back before she would do any surgery.
Now, I want to explain how these transplants work. Once a cornea has been removed from the donor it can only be stored for five days. So the surgery is scheduled a month in advance without really knowing if there will be a cornea available or not. The day before the surgery they call you to let you know if they got one. Unfortunately I didn’t know that. My doctor never explained it and it never even occurred to me to ask.
I was so excited as the day of my surgery approached. I was living in Dallas at this time and Mom was driving all the way down from Nebraska to be there with me. The day before the surgery, they called me and said they did not have a cornea for me. I was flabbergasted to say the least. I had to call Mom and give her the news (she was more than halfway to Texas by then). She decided to turn around and go back so she could save her vacation time for when the surgery really happened. Years later she told me she felt bad about turning back but I totally agreed with her decision.
Anyway that was in January 2003, I think. They went ahead and re-scheduled the surgery for February. I began getting my hopes up all over again even though I tried not to.
The day before my surgery arrived again and this time I was prepared. I wasn’t going to let them surprise me again so I called that morning and asked if they had a cornea for me. They did! I was so excited! Mom was on the road again and I called her right away so she wouldn’t have to worry.
That afternoon the doctor’s office called me back. The cornea didn’t pass all the tests. Tests?? Yep, the cornea has to be tested for HIV and other things. That makes perfect sense but I didn’t know about that at the time. I was beyond crushed. I knew Mom was only a couple of hours away by then and I didn’t have the heart to call her so I just let her drive the rest of the way. The doctor wanted to re-schedule again but I said no. I just couldn’t go through it again.
In May of that year, Joni and Adam came to Dallas to live with me and Joni started talking me into re-scheduling the surgery. I finally relented in October and they scheduled me for November.
This time everything worked out. I got my new cornea on November 7. The doctor said I could take the bandage off the next morning, and when I did I could see! I had almost perfect vision in both eyes again after waiting for two years. Maybe God was just waiting until Joni was with me so I wouldn’t be alone for this. Certainly He was trying to teach me patience.
Well, obviously this is STILL not the end of the story but I will have to leave it here for this week. I warned you that this might take awhile. I hope you’ll come back to hear the rest!
Psalms 27:14 Wait on the LORD: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the LORD.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
My History
Hi there! If you’re reading this then I’ll assume you’ve read my first two posts. If you haven’t, you really should to give you a little background on why I created this blog. You’ll find older posts below this one. Go on, it’ll only take you a minute and I promise I won’t go on without you
All done? You’re a fast reader! Well, now that we’re all on the same page (pun intended) let’s get started!
It’s hard to know where to begin. I suppose I should tell you a little of my history. They say that if you don’t study the past you are doomed to repeat it. That is so true! It’s okay to make mistakes but if you don’t learn something from those mistakes then you’re really in trouble.
My childhood was pretty typical. I grew up on a farm in Nebraska. That almost sounds like a cliché doesn’t it? Well, I won’t bore you with long descriptions of farm life in the Midwest but there are a couple of points that bear explaining.
The two sides of my family were almost complete opposites. On Mom's side were the wholesome church-goers. On Dad’s side were the drinking and swearing farmers. I have a great deal of respect for farmers. Dad’s family were honest and hard working, but they didn’t know God. That was fine with me as a child because I didn’t know Him either.
It was Mom, however, that was in charge of raising us kids and her rule was “As long as you live in this house, you’ll go to church”. So we went to church every Sunday.
I can’t speak for my siblings here, but I only went because I had to. Church was boring and, as far as I was concerned, a waste of a morning when I could have slept in. I learned the Golden Rule, and stories like “Noah’s Ark” and “Jonah and the Whale”, but I never learned about God; about who and what He really is. That wasn’t because I had bad teachers, it was just because I didn’t care. When I was old enough to choose for myself, I quit going to church and never looked back.
After that my life was perfect and idyllic. NOT! No, during the years of my early adulthood I caused a lot of problems for myself and sometimes for other people as well. I was very bad at managing money and so I never had any. Also, I had a habit of making bad decisions. I bounced around from place to place and job to job, always struggling and fighting to pay my bills.
Now, here are the two points I would like to make.
Firstly, even when I had turned my back on God, He was still looking out for me. I never had to live on the streets, and I never went hungry (although I did live on mac ‘n’ cheese and hot dogs for a while). My basic needs were always met.
Secondly, look at my life now. I am actively seeking out God. It was my mother’s nature that won out in the end rather than my father’s. Her steadfast persistence in taking us kids to church every Sunday was eventually rewarded. As it turns out, some of that stuff penetrated my thick head after all.
Wow! You know, I never really thought of things this way until just now as I typed it. What a perfect example of how God’s nature wins out in the end.
Well, with that revelation, I think I will close for today. I hope you got as much out of this as I did! :-)
See you next time okay?
All done? You’re a fast reader! Well, now that we’re all on the same page (pun intended) let’s get started!
It’s hard to know where to begin. I suppose I should tell you a little of my history. They say that if you don’t study the past you are doomed to repeat it. That is so true! It’s okay to make mistakes but if you don’t learn something from those mistakes then you’re really in trouble.
My childhood was pretty typical. I grew up on a farm in Nebraska. That almost sounds like a cliché doesn’t it? Well, I won’t bore you with long descriptions of farm life in the Midwest but there are a couple of points that bear explaining.
The two sides of my family were almost complete opposites. On Mom's side were the wholesome church-goers. On Dad’s side were the drinking and swearing farmers. I have a great deal of respect for farmers. Dad’s family were honest and hard working, but they didn’t know God. That was fine with me as a child because I didn’t know Him either.
It was Mom, however, that was in charge of raising us kids and her rule was “As long as you live in this house, you’ll go to church”. So we went to church every Sunday.
I can’t speak for my siblings here, but I only went because I had to. Church was boring and, as far as I was concerned, a waste of a morning when I could have slept in. I learned the Golden Rule, and stories like “Noah’s Ark” and “Jonah and the Whale”, but I never learned about God; about who and what He really is. That wasn’t because I had bad teachers, it was just because I didn’t care. When I was old enough to choose for myself, I quit going to church and never looked back.
After that my life was perfect and idyllic. NOT! No, during the years of my early adulthood I caused a lot of problems for myself and sometimes for other people as well. I was very bad at managing money and so I never had any. Also, I had a habit of making bad decisions. I bounced around from place to place and job to job, always struggling and fighting to pay my bills.
Now, here are the two points I would like to make.
Firstly, even when I had turned my back on God, He was still looking out for me. I never had to live on the streets, and I never went hungry (although I did live on mac ‘n’ cheese and hot dogs for a while). My basic needs were always met.
Secondly, look at my life now. I am actively seeking out God. It was my mother’s nature that won out in the end rather than my father’s. Her steadfast persistence in taking us kids to church every Sunday was eventually rewarded. As it turns out, some of that stuff penetrated my thick head after all.
Wow! You know, I never really thought of things this way until just now as I typed it. What a perfect example of how God’s nature wins out in the end.
Well, with that revelation, I think I will close for today. I hope you got as much out of this as I did! :-)
See you next time okay?
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