Monday, March 30, 2020

Routine


Routine

Judy and I  are “sheltered in place” for two weeks. Not that we don’t get out for a walk around the neighborhood or a leisurely drive through town with the windows rolled up. Our kids have been a great help. They make sure we are well stocked with the essentials of groceries and wine. I just received a double shipment of Gummy Bears. Life in confinement doesn’t get any better.

On a more serious note, it has been my experience that in times of trouble, anxiety or fear, routine is a friend. Years ago, when I had a nervous breakdown and in subsequent seasons of stress and uncertainty, routine kept me alive. Being the type A personality, mopping around with no focus is a real killer.

Routine is the repetitive activity that gives purpose to the day. In the past we called it chores; those things that needed to be done in order to maintain mental health and a clutter free life. The discipline that doesn’t allow life to slip through the cracks. For some, routine is a dirty word that speaks boring, tiresome,  monotony and unexciting. For me it’s sanity.

Interestingly, the word routine comes from the French meaning “a travelled way.” A well worn path of getting up and going to bed at a set time,  Bible reading and prayer, household duties, staying in touch with family and friends, a long walk with the dog, a nap, reading a book, watching Amazon Prime with Judy, and eating healthy are components of my daily routine. Opps! I forgot the glass of wine.

Here is an encouragement from God’s Word:

“Exercise daily in God: no spiritual flabbiness, please! Workouts in the gym are useful, but a disciplined life in God is far more so, making you fit both today and forever. You can count on this. Take it to heart.”

Now back to those Gummy Bears.




Monday, March 23, 2020

Trust


Trust

Now there’s a difficult word. Being sort of a control freak and overly responsible, this word tends to send me into a tailspin. Not being able to overcome situations that are out of my control gnaw away at me until exhaustion hits. My problem is that there are issues, at least for the moment, that are not resolvable.

By definition trust mean an instinctive unquestioning belief and reliance upon something or someone. All my instincts especially in times of trial command me to dig deeper into myself and try harder to resolve the problem. Having spent my adult life fighting through conflict after conflict, I have come to the conclusion that there must be a better way.

Now that I am older and lack the physical and emotional stamina to engage in prolonged stress, I am re-evaluating my problem solving strategy. Looking hindsight, I see that most of my “huffing and puffing” only added to my consternation. I am realizing that life is not a series of problems to be solved (by me) but a mystery to be lived and enjoyed.

Many years ago, when our adult children were school age, we taught them to memorize Scripture verses. There was one verse in particular that became our favorite. It comes to mind as I draw to a close. From the book of Proverbs:

 “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him and he will make straight your paths.”

Now Dan, remember to practice what you preach.




Monday, March 16, 2020

Humor


Humor

A sense of humor is hard to come by these days. Could it be our world is taking itself way to seriously? Yes, we are faced with many difficult issues that try men’s souls. With technology and ability to communicate instantaneously, we often find ourselves overwhelmed. The ability to laugh brings a needed balance to life.

The word humor comes from Latin that has the connotation of health. Humor is a medicine that helps to control our physical and emotional health. A sense of humor helps reduce stress and enables us to cope with the painful side of life. The ability to see life’s quirks and chuckle is a real gift.

This sixth sense is not appreciated by everybody. On many occasions what I thought was funny others did not. Humor is an acquired taste. Most of us have to work at it. That’s because we take ourselves way too seriously. I found this adage helpful for my own humor development: “Blessed are they who can laugh at themselves for they shall never cease to be amused.”

Unfortunately, religious people aren’t known for their sense of humor. Often, they are characterized as people who for too long have been sucking lemons. Just to set the record straight here are a couple of verses from the book of Proverbs:

“A cheerful heart brings a smile to your face; a sad heart makes it hard to get through the day.”

“A miserable heart means a miserable life; a cheerful heart fill the day with song.”

“A cheerful disposition is good for your health; gloom and doom leaves you bone tired.”

If you are a serious minded person like me, take a minute and look at yourself in the mirror. If that doesn’t make you laugh, you need to call your therapist.


Monday, March 9, 2020

Springtime


Springtime

I know I am crazy. It’s only the first week of March and I have spring fever. As I write the temp is +66, the sun is shining, the gophers are out, and someone said the robins are back in town. Forget about snowdrifts piled high in parking lots. Forget that March is the snowiest month of the year in Bozeman. The fact is that spring is coming!

I talked Judy into getting the lawn furniture out of storage in preparation for the patio season which is still two months away. I rewarded her efforts with a burger and a beer at a brew pub near us. We sat on the patio in a sliver of sunshine with soft Salsa music in the background pretending we were at the ocean in Cancun (Montana Mexico). You develop a vivid imagination during long winters here.

February set an all-time snow record in Bozeman. In addition to snow came ice on the highways and sidewalks. Even though I live in a HOA, I ended up shoveling the white stuff. The outside Christmas lights are put away. The Christmas wreath thrown in the garbage can. A winter’s worth of dog dodo is appearing in the backyard along with a garden of mud.

Then I started humming an oldie but goodie cowboy song. I had to check Google to get the lyrics and hear Gene Autry sing it again. Now I am in the springtime mood here in the Rockies.

“When it’s springtime in the Rockies I’m coming back to you little sweetheart of the mountains with your bonnie eyes of blue. Once again, I’ll say I love you while the birds sing all the day when it’s springtime in the Rockies, in the Rockies far away. I fancy it is springtime in the Rockies. The flowers with their colors are aflame. And though I long to be back in the Rockies I’ll wait till the springtime comes again.”

The forecast for the coming week is snow!

Monday, March 2, 2020

Hands


Hands

Lately I have taken notice of my hands. They are old man’s hands. Not only are they wrinkly but they are covered with brown spots. Not freckles like they used to be but rather ugly aging spots. It’s not just my hands but the rest of me is slowly going the way of all flesh. I don’t have to look at myself in the mirror, but I can’t avoid seeing those hands.

That started me thinking about what I have done with my hands over the years. Remembering that they were once tiny like a newborn baby. Slowly they grew in strength to hold objects and the ability to feed myself. Later to write the alphabet in cursive. Then more complex functions like hitting the head of a nail with a hammer without bruising my fingers.

These are the hands that held Judy’s on our wedding day when I said, “I do.” The hands that held each of our children at birth and later each of our grandchildren. The same ones that labored to provide food, clothing and shelter for our family. Hands that blessed and disciplined when needed. Dexterous fingers that wrote checks that paid the bills and played a few notes on the piano.

Hands that years ago were anointed with oil to bring healing and hope to the sick and dying. Hands that would comfort those who mourned the loss of loved ones and clapped with joy at festive occasions celebrating life and happiness.

Aging has a way of making one face the reality that this life is but for a season. The truth is that these hands still have work to do. I am blessed with good health that enables me to do the work of the ministry that God has given me. These hands can still grab ahold of life with the best of them.

I take seriously these words from the Bible: “So take a new grip with your tired hands, stand firm with your shaky legs, and mark out a straight, smooth path for your feet so that those who follow you, though weak and lame, will not fall or hurt themselves but become strong.”