Memorial Day

Memorial Day

Unfortunately, our country is going through a season of rewriting history. There is a movement afoot to eradicate anything and everything that is not politically correct. Statues in public places are removed; names of college buildings, streets and public places are renamed. Whatever makes people uncomfortable is subject to revision.

Memorial Day hasn’t as yet fallen under the sway of correctness. Established as Decoration Day at the end of the Civil War and later renamed Memorial Day, becoming a national holiday in 1971. What began as a memorial to the 498,332 soldiers who died in the Civil War (more deaths than any other war fought by our country), is now a poignant reminder of the massive cost of our freedom.

Recently, I read this quote from Dark Cloud – Deep Mercy by Mark Vroegop: “Memorials help us remember by making us feel the weight of a tragedy. Without them, we are prone to forget and repeat the mistakes of the past. They remind us that there are lessons to be learned.”

Driving by our city cemetery today, I saw men and women, veterans, walking from grave to grave, placing an American flag in front of veterans’ markers. It is a cold, windy spring day that wasn’t stopping the honoring of those long gone who served their country. What a testimony to the character of people who made history instead of trying to sanitize it.

Seeing those crisp American flags blowing in the wind, sent chills down my spine thinking of all that has gone before so that I might enjoy our way of life. I am reminded of this verse from Ecclesiastes: “The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning.”

Memorial Day is a time to remember and mourn all who have laid down their lives for our freedom.

Butt Call

Butt Call

Mother’s Day, a beautiful spring day in Montana. The sun is shining in a clear blue sky. Our mountain ranges are still capped with winter snow. Flowers starting to bloom and trees budding. You couldn’t ask for a more perfect day.

At our church, it is a tradition to give each woman a beautiful rose to acknowledge our appreciation. This year was no exception. We had an abundance of white roses and each lady got at least two or three to take home.

At the end of our service, quite by accident, one of the elders made a butt call. He carried his phone in a back pocket and somehow the phone self-dialed 911. Before he realized what happened, he got a call back from emergency services. Although the mistake was explained, a sheriff deputy was sent to the church.

It was quite a scene with people preparing to leave and the sheriff showing up. While explaining the miss dial, the elder asked if she, the deputy, was a mom. The deputy said yes, she had a young child. So, he gave her a white rose and wished a happy Mother’s Day.

The next morning, Monday, the following appeared on the Gallatin County Sheriff’s Facebook page: “From one of our deputies: To the kind stranger who asked, ‘Are you a mother?’ and then gave me a rose when I came to check on an accidental 911 call at your church gathering. Thanks for making working on Mother’s Day a little nicer and brightening up my rolling office.” Accompanying the note was a photo of the inside of her patrol car with a white rose sitting on top of her computer.

Butt calls are an annoyance. However, every once in a while, they produce abundant fruit.

Hokey Pokey

Hokey Pokey

You have to be over sixty to fully understand this blog. Back in the day when I was in high school, we had Friday night Sock Hops. This was the time when Rock and Roll was gaining popularity and American Band Stand was on TV. I confess I was not much of a dancer but with the right kind of music, I could cut a decent figure on the dance floor.

One of the funky dance songs of the time was the Hokey Pokey. It was imported from the U.K. and caught on with us dance crazed teenagers. If you want to hear the melody just check it out on Google. Accompanied with body moves, the lyrics went like this: “You put your right hand in, you put your right hand out, you put your right hand in, and you shake it all about. You do the hokey Pokey and you turn yourself around. That’s what it’s all about.” The verses go on to left hand, right and left foot, head, butt and whole self. Quite a workout.

Why am I mentioning this in a blog? Earlier this year, while stopping at a bagel shop in Scappoose, Oregon my eye caught a poster with multicolored flowers and chickens. In big black letters, it read: “What if the Hokey Pokey is really what it’s all about?” I just started laughing.

I hadn’t thought about the Hokey Pokey in over fifty years. What are the chances of walking into a bagel shop a long way from home and catching sight of a blast from the past.  The melody, the words, and my graceful body movements flashed through my mind like a video clip.

I don’t put stock in the Hokey Pokey being what life is all about. But it does bring to mind a season of life that was focused on growing up, checking out the girls and praying that I would graduate. Looking back, life seemed a lot simpler. Not sure I can make those graceful dance moves any more, but the melody is still ringing in my head.

Oh, by the way, the bagels were great!

Happiness

Happiness

I believe happiness is an acquired taste. I have lived long enough to realize that happiness is not just something that happens. Like so many things in life, you have to work at being happy. I don’t mean walking around with a smile pasted on your face. Rather, it is a life quality that is often learned through hardship.

Growing up, I didn’t hear the word very much. I remember every once in a while, my mother giving me that look that spoke volumes. Her nonverbal communication was “whatever your problem is, put that smile back on your face” or if it was a bad day “take that smile off your face.” Back in those days when children were seen and not heard, appearances were everything.

Adult life with its accompanying responsibilities made it more challenging to find the path to happiness. Moments of marital bliss, having enough money to pay the bills, driving a car that doesn’t need repair, children doing well in school, staying healthy in mind and body; all opportunities to be happy.

Somewhere along life’s path I began to realize that happiness is not the absence of difficulties but a conscious choice that no matter what the circumstances, I could be happy. If I waited until all my ducks were lined up, happiness wasn’t going to happen. Problems weren’t the problem; I was the problem.

I found the following quote on Facebook of all places. It rattled my cage and provided one of those ah moments. I hope it does the same to you.

“Happiness is a choice, not a result. Nothing will make you happy until you choose to be happy. No person will make you happy unless you decide to be happy. Your happiness will not come to you. It can only come from you.”

Ralph Marston

Happy face!