History

History

I was never good at it in high school. All those dates wouldn’t stay in my head. It made no difference if it was American history or any other kind of history. I was at a point in my life where the only important date was graduation. You get an idea of where my head was sixty years ago.

Not sure how I started paying attention to history. Maybe it was in seminary when I was introduced to church history. The focus was not so much on memorizing dates. My professor had a way of making ancient events come alive in a way that applied to life. Little did I know that I would be making a little church history myself.

What brought this to mind is the social and political events of today. One has to be living on another planet not to realize that history is in the making. Cultural, economic, and political happenings are right in front of us. What occurred in one major city had a ripple effect around the world. Riots, protests and lawlessness are daily occurrences. Without the perspective of history, one would think Armageddon was near.

That’s why history is so important. Having a grasp of what happened in the past gives the opportunity to learn from mistakes. It helps us understand the reasons people behave the way they do. History gives perspective that helps us discern what is really going on. Without it we are at the mercy of what’s happening now.

My eyes ran across this anonymous quote not long ago. I share it hoping it will bring focus to the times in which we live:

“History is not there for you to like or dislike. It is there for you to learn from it. And if it offends you, even better. Because then you are less likely to repeat it. It’s not yours to erase. It belongs to all of us!”

Biscuits

Biscuits

Thomas Paine published The American Crisis during the course of the American Revolution. He penned the words “these are times that try men’s souls.” He was trying to bolster the morale of American colonists in their fight against a despotic king. Those words have meaning today while sickness, unrest and uncertainty are in the air. We are living in a time that is tearing the fabric of our country’s soul.

While surfing through social media I found a story that a friend posted. It was a tonic to my soul. I hope it does the same for you:

A while back I read a story of a visiting pastor who attended a men’s breakfast in the middle of a rural farming area of the country. The group had asked an older farmer, decked out in bib overalls, to say grace for the morning breakfast.

“Lord, I hate buttermilk,” the farmer began. The visiting pastor opened one eye to glance at the farmer and wonder where this was going. The farmer loudly proclaimed, “Lord, I hate lard.” Now the pastor was growing concerned. Without missing a beat, the farmer continued, “And Lord, you know I don’t much care for raw white flour.” The pastor once again opened an eye to glance around the room and saw that he wasn’t the only one to feel uncomfortable.

Then the farmer added, “But Lord, when you mix them all together and bake them, I do love warm fresh biscuits. So, Lord, when things come up that we don’t like, when life gets hard, when we don’t understand what you’re saying to us, help us to just relax and wait until you are done mixing. It will probably be even better than biscuits. Amen.”

Within that prayer there is great wisdom for all when it comes to complicated situations like we are experiencing in the world today.

It was said that Paine’s writing gave the distraught colonists hope and comfort at a time when panic, fear and confusion robbed them of their peace. I pray that a little humor in the story quoted above does the same for all who read it.

What about those blessed biscuits?

Shredding

Shredding

Working at my desk, Judy came carrying a box full of miscellaneous items. She was making room in our bedroom drawers and my stuff was in the way. I asked her to set it down on the floor and promised to go through it. Days later I started digging into my collectibles. It was time to toss and shred.

I forgot I collected cuff links back in the day when I wore starched white shirts with French cuffs: a plastic bag full of links I would never use. I couldn’t toss them. Then there was a plastic bag of foreign coins: one pound coins from the UK, mucho pesos from Mexico, Canadian loons,  and Kenyan coin currency. Not sure what I can do with all that cash. I decided to save it just in case.

Then there was an assortment of jack knives, coin purses, money clips and tangled balls of electronic cords from antiquated pagers, cell phones and digital cameras. My lost duck call suddenly reappeared along with several AC-DC adaptors. I had no idea I was such a pack rat. I blame Judy for bringing it to my attention.

The shredding component had to do with old Montana and Minnesota driver’s licenses. If that wasn’t enough, I found two fist fulls of hunting licenses that dated  back to our time in Havre. Not wanting to throw them in the trash I decided to hand feed them into my shredder. The shredder balked at all the pieces of bureaucratic red tape and seized up. After repeated pushing the forward and reverse button my shredder was free of license chewing. The rest went in the trash.

The moral of this blog is obvious. Whenever your spouse presents you with a box(s) of forgotten collectibles, immediately, without forethought, proceed to the garbage can. If you don’t, much time will be wasted deciding what to keep and what to toss. What is saved then becomes the seed bed of more boxes of stuff.

Tossing is much better than hoarding.

P.S. I don’t do garage sales!

Snakes

Snakes

Not my favorite by far. Reptiles as a species I am not excited about. Snakes I don’t care for at all. It must be a genetic thing. I’m not the only person on the planet who feels this way. The hair on the back of my head stands up even when I see a photo of a snake, let alone encounter one in the flesh.

I remember when I was a counselor at a boy’s summer camp. One evening while taking a break in the lounge a fellow staff member dangled a garter snake over my head. Just short of a heart attack, I jumped out of the chair and ran out of the room almost taking the screen door with me.

On a ministry trip to Kenya, Africa our host took us to a wildlife refuge so we could see some exotic animals: elephants, giraffes, hippos and rhinos. Then he took us to the reptile garden which he called “the devil’s house.” Behind glass enclosures were all kind of poisonous snakes including the Black Mamba, one of the world’s deadliest. I got out of there fast!

What got me on this topic was the other morning Judy started screaming that there was a snake on the patio. I knew that every summer a garter snake comes to visit our garden of Eden. With the moist soil (due to the sprinkler system) and lush foliage, it is a perfect place for a reptile to take up residence. Sure enough I spotted this twelve inch brownish black critter sunning himself on the patio.

Judy didn’t want me to kill it, just ask it to leave. I tried to explain that snakes have a mind of their own and the only way I knew how to deal with the intruder was to kill it. Grabbing a shovel, I ventured out. While the snake was leisurely taking the sun, I snuck up and just as I was to administer the coup de grace, it snuck down an opening between the patio and the house foundation.

We are going to have to learn to live with our garter snake. Our back yard is not large but there is enough room for us to share. “All things bright and beautiful, all creatures great and small, all things wise and wonderful, the Lord God made them all.” Even snakes!

Ex Libris

Ex Libris

My dad was a lover of books. I remember he had shelves and shelves of books in his den; especially the twenty-nine volume Encyclopedia Britannica with brown covers and gold lettering. I was told the answer to any question could be found there. Dad had books on the Civil War and World Wars and a row of medical books most of which I had no interest in except the ones on human anatomy. That’s where I learned about the birds and the bees.

Inside the cover of dad’s books was a pasted paper bookplate that reminded the reader whose book it was: Ex Libris Robert D Semsch M.D. Back in the day, people of learning always made sure their books were branded. I wish I had one of those books with his name on the inside cover.

Times have changed. I rarely read from a physical book. In this digital age, I read everything online. I read the daily paper on the same device I get emails, text messages, do banking and pay bills. There is no place to attach a personal  label.

As a gift to myself from the recent stimulus check I purchased a Kindle Oasis. It’s the newest and nicest e-reader on the market. This is my fourth Kindle. Although I enjoy holding a real book, the convenience and the ease of a Kindle is well worth the cost. At last count I have accumulated over five hundred books on a device that holds over three thousand.

It was my grandmother who encouraged me to read. Although she never finished grade school herself, she instinctively knew that reading was a crucial ingredient in learning life. I am in debt the her and my father who instilled in me the hunger for a good book and the discipline to read it cover to cover.

I am going to emboss my fake leather Kindle cover with  “Ex Libris Daniel R. Semsch, ESQ”.