Quackers

Quackers

Not familiar with the name? Quackers has been my traveling companion for over twenty years. He has persevered through all kinds of weather: intense heat and freezing cold. He has endured my moods and monologues. He is the ideal companion who hears and sees all but utters not a word.

Quackers is one of the Beanie Babies Collection. My kids gave him to me as a gift to accompany me on my road trips. This was a time when I travelled a lot. I appreciated his company during those hours of windshield time. His silence was golden, but I knew he heard and understood my every word.

Quackers has aged a lot. He sits on the driver’s side of the dashboard of my 2007 ¾ ton Sierra GMC. That is where he sat on my three previous trucks and a half dozen automobiles. The sun has faded his once bright yellow fur. His beak and webbed feet are now a faded orange. His eyes are still deep black that give the impression that he is looking and listening attentively. He’s a little dusty but he’s still smiling.

Often when people ride in my truck, they ask about Quackers. I am happy to tell them the story of how my kids gave him to me. I also tell them that Quackers, besides being a great traveling companion, is a visible reminder of my kids love for me. It’s good to have that memory.

Recently, two of my grandkids gave me a gift of their own Quackers. Each was bright yellow fur, orange beak and webbed feet. One I keep as a spare in the truck and the other sits on my office desk.

Fearing to misuse Scripture, I think this one speaks of Quackers: “There are friends who destroy each other, but a real friend sticks closer than a brother.”

Thanks, Quackers for being my friend!

Grey Hair

Grey Hair

Last week I went to the barber. Not the fancy, expensive ones that cost a lot of money. I like the quick in and out generic barber shop chain where no question is asked except how I want my cut. Where I go, they give you a number for the kind of haircut. Mine is one and a half: short on the sides and a hair longer on top.

Sitting in that chair with my hearing aids out and my glasses off, I kind of float off to another world for all of ten minutes. This time I glanced at my cut hair falling to the floor. My goodness, it looked like it was snowing. Was that really my hair? What happened to the lush brown crop I used to have? Putting my glasses back on I was shocked to see nothing but white on top and not much of that.

I have friends who are going through change of life hair color. Some spend time and money tinting out the grey. Some cover up their aging scalp with a toupee. Some say the heck with it and shave it all leaving a bowling ball effect. Some try a comb over of what they have. The rest of us just sigh and accept another component of the aging process.

When I got home, I took a good look in the bathroom mirror. I had to look twice. Not only was my hair almost totally white but there were other noticeable signs of  aging. I didn’t know which was scarier. Nobody noticed I got a haircut. Nobody remarked on how handsome I was with the new cut. Am I the only one that cares about the change?

I don’t want to sound vain. Thank goodness I don’t have to look at myself that often. I confess it is a little disconcerting to see that old is starting to show. This morning while reading the Book of Proverbs I read this: “Grey hair is a mark of distinction, the award of a God-loyal life.”

 I think I need to take another look in the mirror and thank the Lord for what hair I do have!

Confrontation

Confrontation

A scary word for lots of people. Even the thought of having to confront an individual or a difficult situation can send a person into an emotional upheaval. In my experience, people tend to shy away from anything that looks or feels like having to address a sticky issue.

Something must have happened in my past to equip me to be a confronter. It could be that I am the oldest of eight children. It could be the seminary training that forced me to work through situations rather that flee from them. Maybe it’s that I’ve been gifted with that unique quality of  “don’t tread on me.”

The root meaning of the word is “come head to head.” Not the kind that promotes butting heads. Rather the process of bringing to the table real issues that cause misunderstanding, hurt and division. A meeting of the minds with the goal of restoring relationships.

As I look back, it scares me to remember how poorly I dealt with relationships. I have confronted archbishops, bishops, pastors and assorted other authority figures. Often to my own detriment. Although gut wrenching and some with severe consequences, I have learned important tools. The most important one being the ability to speak the truth in love.

Recently, I was tested in addressing a long-standing friendship. My prayer was “Lord don’t let me screw this one up. Give me the words to speak that bring peace and life into our relationship.” Somewhat skeptical, I stepped into troubled waters only to discover that the Lord had already prepared the heart of the other person.

Here is a sobering word from the Lord: “Work at getting along with each other and God. Otherwise you’ll never got so much as a glimpse of God. Make sure no one gets left out of God’s generosity.”

Looking Back

Looking Back

Walking with Daisy, our three-year-old Sheltie, I noticed some strange behavior. We got Daisy when she was six months old. She has this odd habit of looking behind her while on a walk. She must have had a traumatic experience to make her leery. She was born on a farm and is nervous around loud noises and strangers, especially men.

Observing her odd behavior, I started thinking about my own looking back. I am of the age where there is a lot more life behind me than what is ahead. Trying not to be morbid, I started to reflect on choices I made in life. Memories can conjure up a lot of “ifs.”

What if I hadn’t broken my high school girlfriend’s heart by telling her I was going to seminary? What if I had stuck it out, and never left the priesthood? What if I said no to my brother’s invitation to meet this Judy friend of his? What if I had said no to God’s tugging on my hardened heart to return to ministry? What if I said no to the opportunity to come to Montana and run a ski lodge? The list goes on.

Looking back can really mess a guy up. There are moments when I wonder if I really did make all those choices. Whatever possessed me to say yes to this but no to that. It wasn’t that I could see my future through a crystal ball. I wasn’t smart enough to always make the right decision. I know it wasn’t fate or chance that brought me safe thus far. Then I remembered these words from the Bible: “The mind of man plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps.”

There is this chorus we used to sing in church: “I have decided to follow Jesus, no turning back, no turning back. The Cross before me, the world behind me, no turning back, no turning back.”

Thinking about taking Daisy to doggie therapy!

Patio Time

Patio Time

Finally! It’s Saturday morning early and I am on the patio taking in the sun and warm breeze. Usually this is not a newsworthy event, but it is almost ten days past the summer solstice. Today is the first day warm enough to enjoy a morning respite in the garden. Although there is still snow on the mountains and the realization that it can snow here any day of the year, I am taking in the sun and silence while I can.

There is a rainbow of color in the garden. The white and red peonies are bursting forth thanks to those energetic ants. The iris are blue, purple, rust and violet. White roses blooming bring a sense of elegance. Dianthus in the background are a splash of yellow, purple and white. Hanging pots of red, blue, purple and white petunias. Pink and white bleeding hearts hide among the green foliage.

The barn swallow flashes by as it returns to feed its young in the birdhouse attached to the privacy fence. Wrens, gold finches, red wing black birds, crows, doves and magpies feast on sunflower seeds in the bird feeders. Recently, a black bear stopped by the feeders one night and trashed the rod iron stand and consumed lots of seed.

What a treat to sit quietly in this garden of Eden until the neighborhood wakes up. Suddenly my peace and quiet is shattered by train whistles, airplanes flying overhead, barking dogs and lawnmowers with accompanying leaf blowers. A bubble of tranquility that lasts but a moment. I take pleasure in what the Lord has provided in this nature sanctuary.

Then comes this sweet voice from the living room: “Enough of your peace and quiet. It’s Saturday morning and time for garage sales.” Must have been what Adam heard in the garden when Eve said: “Have I got something to show you!”

The rest is history.