Fifth Wheel

Fifth Wheel

I confess that I am a lot like my father. Not only do I look more and more like him as I gaze into the bathroom mirror every morning but I enjoy a lot of the things he enjoyed. I thought he was a little crazy when, after he retired, be bought a brand new one-ton pickup truck and a fifth wheel trailer. He spent some big money on this rig deciding he and my mom were going to travel. It only lasted a year or two.

When Judy and I moved back to Montana some years ago, I talked her into buying a pickup truck and a popup camper. After one summer I traded that one in for a hard side bumper pull trailer. That was the beginning of my search for the ultimate rig. Each trailer was bigger and a little more expensive. Ultimately my goal was to buy a Class A Diesel Pusher. I settled for a 25 foot fifth wheel.

The fifth wheel attaches to a hitch located in the truck bed. It is easier to hook up and easier to pull than the conventional bumper pull trailer. With a queen size bed, a shower and toilet, a stove, microwave, refrigerator and freezer, air conditioning, flat screen TV and surround sound music, I was ready to rough it in the great outdoors. I love modern conveniences when I camp.

No one told me that I needed to be careful when hooking and unhooking the fifth wheel. One day, getting ready for a camping trip, I started to attach the trailer to the truck. I backed up, got out to check something and accidently hit my head on the gooseneck of the trailer. I hit so hard that I was knocked to the ground and almost passed out. There I was spread eagled on the pavement; dazed, head throbbing, and seeing stars. The truck was running but I couldn’t move. It took awhile but I struggled to stand up only to hit my head again.

I remember what my son Tim tells me. He works at an RV dealer here in Bozeman. “Dad, the guys who can afford to buy these big rigs, shouldn’t be driving them. They’re too old!”

Father John

Father John

I was driving down the freeway listening to the radio when I heard the announcement that a Catholic priest was shot and killed along with two other men. This was back in February 1985 long before mass shootings became a frequent news item. It was not until later that day when my father called and said that it was Father John who was murdered.

Father John was my dad’s cousin and they were like brothers. John was a fun loving Irishman who happened to be a priest. Our family has fond memories of him either hosting a party or being the life of the party. One time he showed up at my dad’s birthday party driving his Cadillac dressed in priestly vestments caring a smoking incense censer that is used for Sunday mass. With a thick Irish brogue and a disarming smile, John was always larger than life.

On that fateful winter morning, after the children’s service, a deranged young man with a shotgun approached John killing him instantly; then turned on two other men and shot them. Later when he was apprehended, he told the police he was mad at Father John for allowing young girls to serve at the altar during mass.

Our family went to the funeral. It was heartbreaking to see those caskets lined up in the center aisle of the church. They were ordinary men who woke up one morning going about their daily routine not realizing this was the last day of their life on earth. Left behind were grieving families and friends struggling with the unanswerable question “why?”

Today, this kind of tragedy has become almost commonplace. We cringe when the media displays the inhumane consequences of a world gone mad. The question “why?” continues to be asked but without a satisfactory answer. We are left with emptiness in our heart and an unquenched anger toward humanity that values life so little.

The Bible gives God’s perspective when it says, “How painful it is to the Lord when one of his people dies!”

Rest in Peace Father John

All Together Again

All Together Again

Last month our whole family made a pilgrimage to Portland to celebrate Shaun’s fortieth birthday. Katie flew up to Bozeman from Nashville. Along with Tim the four of us drove west to Oregon. Nick and Jackie and their three kids blazed a trail down the Interstate arriving hours ahead of us. David, our son-in-law, took the easy route by flying.

Shaun and Ansley have a beautiful home nestled in the rural area of St. Helens about 30 miles northwest of Portland. With plenty of yard and woods, it was a private park for the Semsch family reunion. Although the sleeping and bathroom facilities were a little cramped for thirteen of us, there was enough good will and patience to make it through five days of communal living.

The grandkids had a great time. From dawn till dusk they were making the most out of their time with the cousins. Uncle Shaun and Aunt Ansley made sure there was enough kid food (lots of snacks and drinks) to keep them fired up. There were two battery powered kid cars that kept them mobile across the big back yard. Shaun got out the riding lawn mower, attached the plastic winter sled, and gave them thrills by the minute. The half dozen laying hens provided not only the daily supply of fresh eggs for breakfast but also a challenge to catch and pet.

What a joy it was to have the whole family together under one roof again. Our children are grown adults with their own lives and families. Sitting back and watching them brought joy to my heart and some tears to my eyes. I know this is not always the case with family gatherings but I confess that the Lord continues to bless Judy and I with a large family of friends.

When our kids were growing up we would often sing this little ditty. Now when I bring it up our adult kids roll their eyes. What it says is true: “We can be a family of friends, a family of friends. Oh we can be a family of friends.  WE CAN BE A FAMILY!”

Religion

Religion

I think it was Karl Marx who said that religion is the opium of the people. Karl wasn’t known for his religious convictions but in fact he exposed the reality that religion can easily distract people from a relationship with God.

Jesus came not to establish a new religion but to reintroduce us to the Father. It was because of this that he ran into trouble with the religious leaders of his day. Those leaders were much more interested in preserving their way of life than reconnecting with the Creator. I have come to understand that the number one goal of any human institution is self-preservation. This means that relationship with the Father is almost always trumped by doing God’s work man’s way.

It’s the three “R’s” of religion that can eclipse Jesus’ message of hope and reconciliation: Reverends, Rituals and Rules. In and of themselves they can be a help to point us in the right direction. It is when we put the Reverends on pedestals, fall in love with Ritual and become rigid with Rules that we lose our way back to the Father’s house. Having been raised, trained and served in several religious traditions, I am sensitive to religious dead ends.

Here are several quotes I found on Facebook concerning religion:

“A liberal church says you are welcome here but you don’t have to clean up your life. A legalistic church says you are not welcome here until you clean up your life. Jesus says you are welcome here and I will change your life from the inside out.”

“Religion says: God will love us if we change. The Gospel says: God’s love changes us.”

“I’d rather attend church with the messed up people seeking after God, than religious people who think they’re His enforcers.”

So much for religion!

Golden Years

Golden Years

Recently I made a trip to southwest Florida to settle the estate of an old friend and mentor. She asked that upon her death I come and make sure her wishes were carried out. I had come some months earlier to say farewell and make sure I understood what she wanted me to do. Although now sad to be there in her absence, I honored her request.

Over the years I have visited several retirement communities. When my parents were alive I would regularly visit them in Arizona. Spending time there gave me a unique perspective on retired life. After the initial attraction of freedom without the daily grind of a job, I began to see the challenges of life for the older generation. Listening to my parents and their friends during “happy hour” (the highpoint of the day), I started to see behind the veil of the American retirement dream.

Running the risk of sounding judgmental, I kept hearing recurring themes from those who were living their Golden Years. Everyone was concerned about health; if not their own, then a spouse or a neighbor. Urgent Care and the ER were frequently visited. A sense of depression seemed to be in the air. Idleness and fear of the unknown laid a pall over conversations. The stock market was watched with diligence. Which would come first, death or destitute? Death was a taboo topic during Happy Hour.

I enjoy being around older people. I have learned a lot from people who have survived the challenges of marriage, family and the work world, especially those whose attitude of life is still vibrant. As I look to the future I chose to live life as fully as I am able: spirit, soul and body. The best is yet to come!

Jesus tells us, “I came so you can have real and eternal life, more and better life that you ever dreamed of…”