I used to view the political strife in this country as a series of revolutions; when one side is in power, the other side revolts and regains power, and then the other side revolts and regains power. But… it suddenly occurs to me it isn’t a series of revolutions, but a constant one. After all, a revolution is when we go full circle and wind up right back where we started. Right?
On the lighter side, I was thinking about an upcoming multi-class reunion, and thought; We gotta stop doing this. I can’t remember the name of a person I just met, and somebody–a bunch of somebodies–comes up to me at one of these reunions and says, “Bet you don’t know who I am.” It gets worse every year! Yep, I long for the good old days, when everybody knew my name… and I knew theirs.
This is a melancholy sort of poem, but just so y’all know, I am not sad. In fact I am very much at peace and I have great hope for the future. I do, however, often look longingly at the way things used to be. I think we all tend to do that. I hope you enjoy the poem.
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… to play golf. Especially if you’ve only played twice in the last 12 months or so, and your last round was six months ago. But, one has to put everything into perspective. Ten years ago, “a lot of balls” (I’m talking about losing them) would have been a dozen or so; yesterday, I lost three. So, as I used to enjoy telling my fellow duffers at Spicewood Beach after they’d hit a bad shot, “Well, you’re gettin’ closer!” In other words, what was a bad day yesterday was really good compared to those days of yore.
Son Bill hit the nail on the head last night, after I described my “horrific return to the links” to him. I told him about all the bad shots—like my drive on hole number five that found an unexpected water hazard. I couldn’t see it from the tee box, but there was a pond in the fairway—left over from Monday’s rain—right where my well hit shot landed. Imagine my surprise when a spray of water erupted when my ball came down. And to top it off, the “pond” was just big enough that I couldn’t retrieve the ball. Anyway, after I finished describing the horrors of the day, I finished with, “At least I managed five pars,” and Bill said, “Five pars! That would be considered an outright miracle for me!”
I guess that proves everything’s relative… pun intended. Speaking of relatives…
As time goes on, the world seems to be picking up speed and it seems we’re barreling headlong toward sure destruction. Yes, a fierce battle rages between good and evil throughout this world, but we should never give up the fight for what we know to be right.
Too often, we get so wrapped up in what’s going on around us we forget God is in charge. We find ourselves deep in the battle, fighting and straining against evil, and we begin to feel defeated and beat down. That’s when we need to read a verse, listen to a good word, or simply remember God is with us, and be strengthened.
We must continue to fight the battle and never be dismayed no matter how bad things might appear. God will strengthen us and help us and if the battles we fight are just He will uphold us with His righteous hand.
As a young man, I was afraid of nothing and rebelled at everything. I was wild, always testing the rules and boundaries, and actually made the statement, more than once, that I didn’t think I’d live to see my 21st birthday. I lived life like there would be no tomorrow, and for most of my life I was amazed I was still standing.
Then things changed; I didn’t have one of those lightning bolt experiences, and the fact is I wasn’t even looking for help or seeking to change. It just began, as I quite suddenly realized I’d lived far past my expectations not because I was unafraid, but because I was a part of God’s plan. I learned that even when I wasn’t aware of Him, or His plan, He was still using me.
All those years… years when I thought it was me against the world… He never let go of my hand. I am in awe of God’s love.
My mom sang to me—she still does—and my desire is to share her songs with others. Funny thing is, Mom doesn’t think she can carry a tune. What she doesn’t seem to understand is the song she sings is her life. No, she’s not perfect, but she is the awesome and beautiful person God made her to be, and throughout her life she has shared her song with the world around her.
One of my favorite songs is, You Raise Me Up as sung by Celtic Woman, and each time I hear it I think of the wonderful mother God blessed me with. I think of the song her life is and in my heart I thank her for raising me. For you see, she didn’t just train me in the way I should go and help me to be who I am, she raised me up with her prayers—all my life—and placed me on God’s shoulders. There is no higher place and no place I’d rather be.
Thank you, Mom!
Thank you, God!