Category Archives: Inspirational

by | March 20, 2013 · 11:47 pm

Play Through Me In Spite of Me…

fiddlersWe’ve been attending the local Fiddler’s Conventions in our area lately with friends and family. While there are contests for various instruments and talents I’ve forgone any attempt in competing to win; rather, I have found it much more rewarding to use the opportunity as a platform. I know there are some who would say, “You shouldn’t waste your time going if your not going to compete to win.” Well, in a sense, I am competing to win, but not in the monetary sense.

Allow me to explain.

A couple weeks ago I watched a TED presentation on “Your elusive creative genius” by Elizabeth Gilbert http://www.ted.com/talks/elizabeth_gilbert_on_genius.html and found her lecture spoke to me quite profoundly from my Christian background. 70532_74x56What she said that struck such a chord with me was that when we are true to our faith, we become the channel, the vessel if you will, through which a power greater than ourselves can flow.  The fallacy of so many artistic minds is that we start to believe the talents we pocess are because of us, something “We” are responsible for creating. With this responsibility comes great pressure. Once you’ve created that awe inspiring masterpiece, then everything after that becomes compared to the one that made you famous. More often than not, the vaccum that follows leaves many in such states of depression that they fall into either a dependency behaviour or take their own lives. However, all of this can be avoided if we realize the source of our talents; our inspiration.

It was from this TED talk that I was reminded of how we must give God the Glory, that everything we have we owe to him. When we try to take credit for it, we are only kidding ourselves and quickly fall into that trap of thinking we are more than we really are. So when the 2013 Fiddler’s Conventions came around, I realized I had to do more than just go on stage and perform; I had to deliver a message, even if it was brief.

So each week, before the performance, and most of the times on the way to the event, I listen for God to speak to me, telling me what I am to do, what song or scripture I will share with the audience. Some weeks he has told me in advance; others, I found out only minutes before. Such was this past week at the Seagrove Convnetion. Before we arried I had picked out a song I thought would be good enough, but on the way there, the idea of rewording the song, “House of the Rising Sun,” and playing it on my fiddle flashed into my brain. Upon arriving, I found my cohart and backup on stage in the recent weeks, a young man who is wonderfully talented and a great Christian, Tanner Henson. I presented to him the song and we tried it out but found neither one of us knew the chord progression on the guitar. I was about to scrap the idea unless I could find one of the many guitar virtuso’s in attendance. Just a few minutes before stage time, I found Harold Pickett; one of those guitar experts. I was also wonderfully surprised to find Harold a fellow Christian as well. Soon, the gig was on.

I prayed for guidance from the Lord and told the crowd before I started that I had to sing a couple lines to the song, so that they would know where I was coming from; meaning, not the original song but the new verse I had written on the way to the convention. So, with the power of the God flowing through me, Harold Pickett on guitar, Clyde Maness on bass and myself on fiddle  performed “House of the Rising Sun” but with these words as the intro instead, “There is, a House, at the end of the street, Where we go to worship God, and many a poor boy, has waited for judgment day, to accept the Spirit of the Lord.”

After that verse, we kicked the song into overdrive and the rest was a blur. I know I couldn’t have won anything monetarily, for I could barely contain the energy that swept through my fingertips as the bow nearly flew off the strings. There was a complimentary applause following our performance, but I think most folks were just being polite. I followed up the fiddle with an old Tom T. Hall song on my guiatar, while I sang and played, “Me and Jesus“. I left the stage, shaking from the adrenaline rush that had come from the fiddle performance and prayed I had not dishonored God in any way. Afterward, all I could think of was the TED talk by Elizabeth Gilbert and how it was God playing that night, not me. Regardless of how it sounded, I was more concerned that I had probably ruined my chance to touch a heart. I kept asking myself, “Did I get in the way of God?” You never know until its over if what you did was respectable in his eyes, but again, I kept the faith and carried on.

Shortly after coming off stage, just as we were about to walk out the door, a young man walked up to me and said, “Now I know who you are. Your that preacher from over around Asheboro aren’t you?” I smiled and thanked him for the compliment but told him I was not a preacher; at least not yet. I told him it was a little ironic that he ask that since I was scheduled to preach my first sermon of my book ministry at the Crestview Wesleyan Church in Asheboro on April 7th. I gave him a card and invited him to come to the service. We shook hands and parted ways.

As we walked out, I realized something special had just transpired.  As we drove home that night, I felt as if I had somewhat achieved my goal; at least one heart had been touched, even if it was a case of mistaken identity… and that was all the prize I needed.

All we ask is that he plays through us in spite of us, in God’s name we pray….Amen!

ps. We were tired and there was a lot more convention left to go when we left. We rarely stay to the end to find out who won. We found out a couple days later that my daughter had won second place in vocals when she sang, “Amazing Grace.” You can bet we were proud of her, thanks be to God!

Do you find yourself getting caught in that trap of feeling like its you, like you have to do better next time? Let me know, and better yet, let me know if you’ve touched someone’s life by something you did recently.

1 Comment

Filed under Inspirational, Music, Religious Experience

Tagged as , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

by | March 15, 2013 · 3:03 pm

With Great Expectations?…Or Do You Sit and Wait?

budsIt is a beautiful early spring day here in North Carolina.
 
I sit here in B&N waiting on the manager who is in charge of handling purchasing in anticipation that my publisher and their distributor have worked out the glitch that has prevented my book from already being on the shelves here at Barnes and Noble. As I sit here sipping on my Blonde House Coffee from Starbucks, I can’t help think about the similarties of my expectation of this event and that of the earth which I had just plowed up in the garden last Saturday.
 
Like the preparation of the earth, I have already called numerous times to the Publisher preparing the event ahead of time, finding out that we had a problem with the distributor keying in the status of my book incorrectly, which has ultimately cost me at least five months of potential sales “In Store”. Granted this is all an assumed potential sell, it is like the garden. We prepare the earth, plant the seed and then wait for the results with much anticipation. As the years go by, we know the early signs of success, the new leaf sprout, the soil cracking as the plant pushes through, all in the pursuit of reaching the sunshine above, that is the life source of the plant.
 
However, unlike the garden, this is a fairly new endeavor, so I am naive to the early signs. I have not received my return call from the publisher acknowledging the problem has been resolved; rather, I have left unanswered voicemails and emails.  I am not seeing the soil bursting forth.
 
So, today, I sit and wait.
 
I had just spent the night before at work and then a subsequent book signing at work starting late this past morning. Instead of trying to go home and then drive back, I just slept in the parking lot. Yes, I literally slept in my vehicle. I was much more refreshed and alert for the book signing considering I had not driven the hour commute, one way.  Although I had a couple hours “Real” sleep, I know I am on borrowed time. It will be a matter of mintues before the exhaustion begins to creep in and I find myself fighting to remain awake.
 
So I sit and wait.
 
Outside, the trees prepare their blossoms on branches whose tips are engorged with the rush of new sap. The various basketball tournaments are in full swing, with excited fans going to and fro heading to their favorite location to watch their team compete. So much excitement, so much anticipation fills the air.
 
So I sit and wait.
 
Like the earth, like the book store, like those teams who’ve yet to play, we all wait on the hopes that what we wait on is worth the time we “Sit and Wait”. Yet, as I write this, I realize I’m not just “Sitting” while I wait. How much like life do we parallel our idle time? Do we idly sit and wait our eternal home or do we actively work to tell the story, share the Word or prepare others for life everlasting?
 
Yes, I might be sitting, but the wait is far from over.
 
“My soul, wait silently for God alone, For my expectation is from Him.” – Psalm 62:5

Leave a Comment

Filed under Farming, Inspirational, Nature, Uncategorized

Tagged as , , , , , , , , , ,

by | March 6, 2013 · 9:46 am

Too Much Thought for a Simple Mind…

As I watched a portion of the documentary film about the annual TED conference yesterday  http://www.ted.com/ (albeit old news now that it was filmed in 2007), I got the feeling that as much as we try, we often are like waterrunners, sprinting as fast as we can go,  but our legs are submerged in water, impeding our progress, slowing are real abilities.  It was invigorating to see various speakers who ranged from Rick Warren to Larry Brilliant, all with ideas and visions that exceeded what they could do locally, taking these thoughts to the global scale; the God-scale.  They were all interviewed either before or after they spoke and described having the similar feeling, as if they couldn’t do enough on their own to achieve their goals or visions which was part of the reason why they were there at the TED conference.

TED stands for Technology, Entertainment and Design and was created as a platform to bring together diverse thought and ideas from around the globe in order to concentrate the human capacity for each of the three aspects in hopes to achieve a higher degree of psyche as a global community.

I  began to think about the scope of what we do daily in our own lives and how little if any that affects the outcome of what goes on in the world. That is the fallacy we face.  Yes, we  put our time in for charitable purposes, telling ourselves, “Every little bit helps.” Then we turn around and second guess ourselves, thinking inwardly, “How can this really matter when there are thousands more children who will go hungry, people without adequate housing or enough clean water for entire towns?”  However, in reality, it does take thousands, even millions of tiny inputs to make dreams come true.

Answer: We cannot do it alone.

Each TED prize winner was asked before they left the stage if they would tell the world, if they could have one dream answered, what would it be. Each of the speakers or audience members, many were  entrepreneurs of significant industries or inventions that have transformed our world, were  interviewed in the documentary and realized either before, during or after the conference that those dreams were only capable because of the financial, intellectual and inspirational collective whole in attendance or connected to the conference in some manner.  In other words, it took the world to make changes on a global scale. Granted, there might be the occasional oddity that might take off on its own and become something without little or no input. But the real game changers, the ideas that could make an impact either by, for example,  preventing a global pandemic to creating sustainable housing anywhere in the world, were only going to be possible with the creative minds of the world working in unison.

A global consciousness is what began to emerge as a theme for the movie; a consciousness that seemed to be taking something for granted. This is where it began to bother me, the fact that many of the most brilliant minds were quite full of themselves, egotistical if  you will. Only when they were placed on a global scale did they feel small and insignificant; thus they had for a second stepped into God’s shoes. It was here, they realized they were incapable of the daunting task that would be required to achieve their dream. It was here they realized they needed help.

Now, few of them, if any, gave pause to reflect on the spirituality of what they were creating as a whole. Again, I have to stress here that it is and was exciting to hear and see all of these brilliant minds present their thoughts and visions. While I may not agree with some of them or adhere to their tenants, it was more than inspiring to learn all they had to tell. When I stopped watching, my mind was on fire. I was ready to jump up and do something,..anything, yet here I was getting ready to go to work; another night shift, another proverbial shift in the salt mines.

It was here that the feeling of, “So much to do, but so little time to get it done,” came back. Yes, we might feel as if we are running in place, or submerged in water feeling as if we can’t do enough to make something happen, but what we have to realize is that we cannot do it alone. And if we really think about it, we cannot do it without God. Leaving faith out of the equation is a mistake mankind has made before, when it comes to giving God the credit for what we are capable of acheiving.  When we don’t give credit where credit is due, we will soon find that we will falter and become mislead in what we seek to achieve. We have seen it time and time again in the Old Testament, when the Children of Israel forgot who they were and what they were there for. They sought to build grand temples, only to have them destroyed, again and again, when they would become misguided and wander down the wrong path.

Let us go forward, seeking to make the world a better place, but be cognizant of the fact that we are not alone, neither in our effort nor in our abilities, which were given to us by the creator; God the Father. Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves and think we know more than he who hath made all things, great and small.

Let us do great things on a global scale for noble causes, but keep it all in perspective  and may God bless us all.

“O Lord, the hope of Israel, All who forsake You shall be ashamed. “Those who depart from Me Shall be written in the earth, Because they have forsaken the Lord, The fountain of living waters.” – Jeremiah 17:13

Leave a Comment

Filed under Inspirational

Tagged as , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

by | February 27, 2013 · 12:00 am

Up and Down the Mountain…

2013-02-23 22.16.51It occurred to me this past weekend as I watched my children repeatedly ski down the mountain how much we try to intentionally incorporate the unknown into our lives of normalcy. We purposely pay others to allow us to throw ourselves into chaotic circumstances from whence we knowingly might emerge unharmed; yet possibly not, thus the thrill.

Sitting in the ski lodge watching people come and go, it soon became apparent as the day wore on, that the flushed haggard faces were from people who had taken risks, forced themselves into the momentary windswept thrill of racing headlong down a mountain, all for the sake of fun; nothing more. There was no reason for their plight, nothing gained, only the momentary pleasure that the rush of adrenaline created. Had it been another place and time, the faces could have easily been of those victims of the many global conflicts, who might have barely escaped being captured by enemy combatants in a war torn region of the world. Or, they could have been people who narrowly escaped death from the onrushing Tsunami that engulfed their home, now running for their lives to higher ground. Or, they could have been people fleeing for their lives from wild fires that had engulfed entire communities this past summer in one of the worst wildfire summers in recent history.

2013-02-23 22.02.51But no, these were weekend warriors; folks who were simply out for the fun of that feeling of whisking along with nothing between you and danger other than your ability to remain upright and the skill it takes to maneuver through a myriad of skiers and collective snowboarders scattered down the mountainside.

I know, I’ve been there too.

Yes, I have to confess; last year I tried my hand at skiing for the first time ever. Up until the point the slopes became too icy for safety’s sake, I was actually having fun tempting fate. I was there to escort my children, who were pretty much escorting me by the end of the night; it was their first time too. However, late into the night with the progressively worsening conditions, I decided to take one last shot down the double black diamond called the “Orchard Run” I realized my luck could have easily run out.

The slopes that night had become increasingly icy and with time, had become more and more difficult to stop. In fact, even the easier slopes were becoming so “fast” that you had to snowplow (turning both toes inward in order to stop your progress downhill) all the way down just to maintain a manageable speed. For some reason, my son and I decided, even with the knowledge of the ice, that we would try one of the most difficult runs at the ski resort we were visiting. We had already successfully made it down this run before, but now unbeknownst to us, it was nothing but a pure sheet of ice. Regardless, we were there to tempt fate, and so we took off from the ski lift with the anticipation of one more adventure; one last run.

The initial section was pretty much as it had been before. My son took a slight spill just after leaving the ski lift, which should have been a sign. Still, we continued on. It was not far from there on the first curve heading down the mountain that I realized I was already going too fast. It was one of those times when you think to yourself, “Now what was I thinking?” It quickly became quite obvious, this was a mistake. As all attempts to halt the increasing speed became apparent, I felt my legs doing everything they could to maintain control and not buckle under the increased force that the speed of flight was creating. The moment I became airborne off of one of the little jumps that I had managed to miss the first time, but due to the increased speed, could not this time, I knew the end was near. As my body prepared for impact, I knew that nothing good was going to come of this. I tried to imagine the pain I would encounter as bone, tendon and muscle became ripped apart from the fateful impact that was about to take place. The first thing that hit was my face, as the rest of my body quickly followed. It was a blinding tumultuous crash that ensued as gravity, speed and ice all combined to continue my unmanned flight down the mountainside, at nearly the same speed I had managed to obtain at the peak of my airborne flight. Seconds later, I lay in a motionless pile of snow, ice and anticipation. I hesitantly began feeling for that first impulse of pain that would lead to the trip to the emergency room; nothing came. I felt my face where I took the initial impact, no blood? As I slowly took inventory as I regained my senses, it became apparent, I had been spared.skiing

I slowly got to my feet and regained my footing, repositioned my helmet and goggles, and with as much dignity as I could manage, headed down the remainder of the slope. My ski trip had just officially ended, and I was thankful to be able to walk away, in one piece. I met up with my son at the bottom of the slope shortly afterward. He made it safely down without incident but was concerned for my well being. He was relieved to see me again, as I was him; both of us none the worse for wear.

As I reflect back on that uneventful plight, I realized that the risk I took was not the kind of enjoyment in life I really wanted. There was no gain, no measure of significant advancement that might cause lasting joy or memory other than knowing I had survived something which wasn’t necessary to survive to start with.

I know what it is to have fun, but then again, I know what it is to take foolish chances.

preachingYet, every day somewhere in the world, someone is performing mission work or preaching the Word where it is forbidden, taking chances to go places to serve others all in the name of God our Father. For these risks, one can be justified in knowing that, “He who is in you is greater than he who is in the world.” – 1 John 4:4 Perhaps, as weekend warriors, we also prepare the path for the day we are called to do greater works, so that we will fear less because of what we have already faced on our own.

I think with age, we come to realize what is more important in life. The fun things become more spiritual in nature, living the thrills to our youth. The old adage, “You’re only as young as you feel,” should have an appendage attached from wisdom that says, “As long as you’ve got feeling left in your body.” No need to risk losing mobility when there is much more life to live.

I believe from now on I’ll take the slow lane; just the ski lift please…nothing more.

.

Leave a Comment

Filed under Inspirational

Tagged as , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

by | February 18, 2013 · 11:23 pm

Goliath and the Free Radical

goliathToday I had the feeling my life is becoming a “Free Radical”.

The book definition of a “Free Radical” is this: “Free radicals are a byproduct of normal cell function. When cells create energy, they also produce unstable oxygen molecules. These molecules, called free radicals, have a free electron. This electron makes the molecule highly unstable.” About.com Health: Longevity.

It started when I took the family with me on another God inspired mission as part of my book’s ministry. For some reason, I felt led to put my “Feet on the Pavement” and walk into some of the largest churches in our capitol city of Raleigh today.

Since last Friday my brain seems to have been set on fire. Although I had a good recuperation on Saturday, I seemed to have picked up where it left off starting on Sunday. When Monday rolled around, I was ready to make things happen. I couldn’t wait on those phone calls that weren’t being returned, I couldn’t wait on those emails that weren’t being replied too; something had to give. So, we drove into the “Big” city of Raleigh North Carolina.

As we turned the curve to enter the downtown area, the skyline is visible in a distant view, making it look like “A cardboard cut-out” as my son put it. He thought the scene before him looked “fake” but realized it would soon become quite real. The analogy was the same as I went down my list of churches that I had quickly searched before we left home. There, standing before us once we had found our parking spot, were some of the largest churches in North Carolina; some of them a full city blocks in size. Needless to say, I was beginning to doubt my aspirations. My children were simply in awe of the multi-story office buildings. They have never been to a city larger than Raleigh before, so to them, these were their skyscrapers. I had been in large churches before, but not for a purpose or reason I was searching them out today. It seemed I was David and they were the Goliath.

Before we began, I felt the need to regroup, so we headed to the Museum of History where we all took a brief restroom break and I called the offices of the churches on my list, checking to see if it would be okay for me to just drop in. All the secretaries I spoke with were very kind and welcoming; however, after speaking with them it was apparent, there would be nobody I would meet face-to-face today. I would simply be dropping off a copy of my book. I expected this and was obliged. I realize there are many complexities when running a large corporation-size church and to simply take someone’s book who walked in off the street and distribute it to your congregation is far more complicated than a simple review of said book. There are committee approvals, staff reviews and in some cases, institutional reviews required. In some instances, the church might only allow what is sold through its publishing house; thus are the intricacies of corporate Theology.

I’ve talked to people who’ve gone to such institutions and most of them have described how they felt like a “number” at times since there are so many people in attendance. Surprisingly, most of the time they are happy with that; meaning, they don’t feel like they owe anything beyond what they dropped into the collection plate. That spiritual high they felt last Sunday was all part of the show, and that’s it.

For some reason, I’m not wired to accept that. My electron has been pushing the outer edge of its orbit for some time now.

So when I finally found the open door to these monolithic institutions, it was no surprise when we met the secretaries on duty, they said pretty much what I had expected. The people who made the decisions were either not here or would require a multi-level approval before anything would be considered. I was very thankful to each of them. After all, I was thankful just to be allowed to enter into their offices and leave a copy. If I had tried to email, write or mail a hard copy of my book, I wouldn’t have known whose hands or what department it might have landed in, if at all. So as I left each beautiful sanctuary of faith, I felt somewhat successful.

Yet, there was a new feeling of old I hadn’t expected; an ancient memory.

Here I was, a humble fledgling author, led by God to write a book I had never expected to pen, searching out institutions that had been years, even centuries in the making. Their vast resource libraries and highly educated theological staffs were so much greater than what I represented, in my mind, that I felt as small and irrelevant as did my children walking down the street between buildings that reached high into the blue cloudless sky.

My thoughts raced back to the time of my ancestors and suddenly it hit me.

They too would have had the same sense of being so insignificant when compared to the Holy Roman Catholic church; the same church who forbid them to preach the Gospel on their own. However, unlike them, I was not in fear for my life; I was merely looking at possibly only wasting an afternoon, not losing my life. Yet, the similarity of the massive institution, so large that it had to succumb to legalities, formalities and rites of passage required from years of applied perceptions and beliefs that it could not accept one man’s ministry of its own merit, regardless if it met all biblical teachings and beliefs relevant to the institution for which they represented. Time had come full circle and I was now facing the Goliath of my ancestors.

As we drove home after enjoying a wonderful home-cooked meal from the State Farmer’s Market Restaurant, I reflected on the journey we had just taken. I had but for a fleeting moment experienced a similar feeling as those long ago Waldensians. My experience was only a fraction of what they struggled through for multiple generations, each one passing on to the other the Word of God and their burning desire to evangelize to the world around them. Each passing day, I feel the need to do more, more than is expected. I feel the reigns of the institution I currently call home falling away and my release, my “Free Radical” moment becoming a reality.

Where I am going, if anywhere?

I don’t know. I’m going to leave that to the one who sent me to Raleigh today. After all, he was there when David slew the giant. I know he’ll be there when my day comes as well.

Leave a Comment

Filed under Inspirational, Religious Experience

Tagged as , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

by | January 4, 2013 · 3:06 am

The Light Within…

2013-01-03 21.17.25-1Tonight, as I look out the window of my barn studio, there is no moon, no light from outside, only the inside reflecting back at me. Were there light from the moon or an outside light, I might not have noticed. Here in the country, the only light at night is what we either create ourselves or what the good Lord gives us in the form of moonlight. Since there are no flood lights turned on, on this side of the barn tonight, all I get is what is directed back toward me from within, showing the mural I’ve been working on for Mary’s room. Strangely enough, I can see flying cats and a Pegasus in my window.

Thanks to the trick of the light, I could easily imagine there were floating castles and flying cats just outside my window: again, the light from within shining back at me. Notice the play on words. Light is a major factor in our lives physically and spiritually.

I have come to the awareness these past few days that our lives are filled with our ability to cope with the truth, and yes, the light. The question I have posed to myself is “How much light within is actually reflecting out?” In the Bible truth and light are used frequently when speaking of the word of God and his son, Jesus.

Oh, send out Your light and Your truth! Let them lead me; Let them bring me to Your holy hill And to Your tabernacle. – Psalm 43:3

The truth, like the light, is difficult to look into directly. One tries to stare into the bleak stark whiteness, brilliance beyond comfort until the pain makes us look away lest we harm our vision. Truth, like the light, can also be painful to bear, standing directly in the midst of the utter essence of what is can be so uncomfortable that we want to shy away, whether it be to turn our heads, escape mentally or physically leave the scene.

A blinding flash can cause us momentary blindness and in some cases, searing ocular pain. Similarly, a truth, previously undiscovered or known brought to out immediate attention can literally take our breath away and making us physically ill or sick to our stomachs.

When we are put under the spotlight, so to speak, we often find the intensity of scrutiny placed on us or others so daunting that it almost makes the reason for that garnered the attention to start with questionable. Yet, in the time of Jesus, he did just exactly that, brought the spotlight upon himself. Each time he came under scrutiny, he humbled himself to the point there was nothing for the inquisitor to sink their prying questions into, thus leaving them scratching their heads.

However, unlike Jesus, I personally find it far more difficult to be Christ-like. Yes, I pray for guidance and seek his wisdom daily, but I’m still human, I still make mistakes, and yes, I still sin. How do we expect others to stand in the light and seek the truth when we ourselves find our ability to do so failing? How do we lead others to the truth and the light we hardly have enough for others to even notice?

For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of the light. –Ephesians 5:8

Because Jesus gave the ultimate sacrifice, dying for our sins, we can become children of the light. With this possibility, we can strive each day to live in the light, and yes, the truth. When we share the truth, the Word, with others, we are then walking in the light out of the darkness and giving others the chance to do likewise. So you may never reach someone to the point they decide to accept Christ, but you can try. You can’t see in the dark until you first turn on the flashlight. Have you even checked your batteries lately? Is your own light turned on?

I admit it, it’s not easy.

We must walk the walk, stare into the blinding light and lead others toward it. Painful as the truth may be, we must face it, accept it and admit we are of sin and once we take that step of commitment, then, and only then, can we begin to heal and become all we can be.

Will you walk with me today, into the light and out of the darkness?

Take the step if you will, it will only take you closer to the light and the truth.

6 Comments

Filed under Inspirational, Religion

Tagged as , , , , ,

by | November 28, 2012 · 3:04 am

One Step at a Time…

Ten miles…it has been over twenty years since I have run a distance in the double digits, but last Friday I finally reached a point I use to consider trivial.

I spent most of the run flashing back in my mind to other runs, long ones that went twenty or more and how they are still a part of me. Some of my favorite runs were those in places far removed from humanity, unlike today when I ran along a country road careful to avoid the occasional vehicle flying by.

One such place was in South Carolina, near Summerville in a forest owned by Weyerhaeuser. I don’t know the total acreage of the vast expanse of land but I know that I could run one way for over an hour without reaching a state or county road. We would travel on logging roads cut by Weyerhaeuser when harvesting their lands. I say we, because back in those days I had a running companion like no other; a Husky-Shepherd mix dog who we called “Milkshake”. We were both built for running in our youth, lean and long-winded. She was a little over a year old and I was in my early twenties.

We would set out on runs and often not know how far we wanted to go for sure, only that we loved to run. We would see all manner of wildlife; deer, turkeys, otters and a large variety of reptiles. Both of us would watch out for the other as we ran on our daily jaunts. I would spot snakes far in the distance, and try to call her back to me when I did, so as to warn her by making it move before she would step too close. One too many times I had seen her dance the dangerous dance with the coiled serpent, only to be saved upon my arrival. Meanwhile, she would be on the lookout for larger animals that she would often chase off into the woods, only to return back by my side priding herself in her endeavor, both of us glad to have the other by their side.

On hot summer days we would stop and refresh ourselves in ponds bordered by lush vegetation but swarming with all sorts of creatures; everything from snakes skimming along the top of the water, otters playing in the shallows or gators sunning themselves on the sandy loam banks lined with palmettos. In this world, we were the visitors and treated our hosts with humility and respect, trying not to alarm anyone lest we cause a stir to the tranquil settings we were blessed to witness. Cooled and invigorated, we would continue on our way thinking nothing of the last few miles that were the most common, the pathway home.

It was out here in this wilderness that I learned a faithful dog would stay close to its master without leash or tether, always returning no matter the circumstance. Oh there were the odd occasion where she might not do so immediately, but if not, it was not of her own accord. Like the time we set out on a run shortly after a huge downpour, finding streams and drainage ditches close to overflowing with rushing water. This particular time I don’t know what caused her to venture to close to the edge of a rushing torrent; perhaps an otter or other aquatic mammal jumping for cover, but alas, she fell into the raging flood, and quickly began to be sucked into the drain pipe that carried the torrent under the road we were about to travel over. At this point I was but just a few steps behind and I instinctively reached down, grabbing a handful of fur and flesh at the nape of her neck and yanked her back up, all fifty some odd pounds, back to safety. She looked up and me and shook the water from her coat and then as if to say, “Thank you” walked up to me and nudged me with her nose, then turned toward the road and began leading the way, back to our journey, back to the road from which we should have never strayed.

Another time, when we had set out later in the day and were only out for a brief run, starting almost at sunset, Milkshake stopped several yards ahead of me and began staring at something in the middle of the road. From the shape I could tell it was not a turtle or armadillo, which was not uncommon, but something more mammalian in size. Upon arriving, I found her staring curiously at a possum that looked to be dead. I had heard all my life about their “playing possum” but never witnessed it in person. Both of us were stumped, and I fearing it was poisoned began to kick it off the road when to both of our surprise, it jumped up, snarled a horrible hiss through a mouthful of teeth and ran off into the underbrush nearby. Needless to say, we never trusted a sleeping possum after that time.

I learned another thing about the dog’s endurance, especially on the weekly long runs where we would go out and run for over two hours at a time. I knew my pace was nearly six minutes per mile or less, so could almost within a quarter-mile judge my distance. It was on runs of over fifteen miles that she would begin to lag behind. Anything over twenty and she would begin to lose sight of me. I didn’t like to lose her, so would often slow enough for her to catch back up. We both learned a lot about ourselves and one another there in that solitude, far removed from mankind, with only the thoughts of what we carried with us and our God-given abilities to carry us there and back. I took great joy in knowing we could run for the countless hours without seeing another human or worry about traffic alongside a roadway. It was the perfect time, but like all perfect times, they too will pass…like the bad, so does the good.

We enjoyed this blissful solitude until the day we met the hunters who leased the land and called it their own. I vividly recall the day the four-wheel drive truck came into few. Oddly enough, I was by myself this day. I had just emerged from a darkly wooded stand of tall timber into a stretch of recently logged land where the sun was shining brightly. They must have been as amazed to see a human out running in “Their” woods as I was to see somebody else. They stopped me as I started to run past their cab, and with the window rolled down, chewing and smoking tobacco in the cab filled with a number of various weapons, they asked me with a foreboding demeanor, “Boy, don’t you know this is a hunting club? You could wind up getting yourself shot out here and the might never find your body.” I tried to do my best to match their drawl and told them I was certainly not aware of this being anyone’s hunting club and would not pass this way again. I ran away from the truck thankful that I had been given a second chance and knew somehow the good Lord was watching over me. Whether or not they were just trying to scare me or if their threat was honest, I never challenged it to find out. Milkshake and I never returned to the forest after that day. I had felt violated but knew that the potential for danger was too great and all it would take is one trigger happy hate-filled bushwhacker to ruin my life, either by shooting my companion or worse, shooting me.

We both quit running in the early nineties, me to start building a farm and her because of cancer. She stayed with us until 1993 but passed on in September of that year. Her body rests in what was her favorite spot, overlooking the pond up on a crest underneath the shade of a tall white oak tree. I go there to visit her now and again and reminisce about my old friend and running mate.

Like life, the many miles we’ve traveled, whether physical, mental or spiritual, they are part of us and make us who we are. Unlike those long ago workouts, today’s was much shorter in distance but just as strenuous. Like the taste of the sweet fruit, with age we must appreciate more often with less.

Let us not forget these virtues as we go forward into the season filled with wondrous blessings…one step at a time.

Leave a Comment

Filed under Inspirational

by | November 2, 2012 · 9:59 pm

Waning Moon Above the Autumn Sky…

The waning moon rises into the autumn sky, reminding me of the fading life.

Will she last until the dark of the moon, when all hope is gone and emptiness of space encompasses the night sky, only the beacon of distant stars doth shine. My journey hath not yet begun, yet I feel the need to be by her side. Few words will be spoken, only the solace in knowing the other is there, in spirit, in support the last few hours of this life. The one that gave me life is now passing from hers to the next. There is little comfort I can provide in these last suffering hours. Her pain is obvious, yet the medicine masks the depth of despair we feel for what she truly feels.

God only knows the torment of the suffering soul and only he can take away the pain. When her feet finally walk on those streets of gold, where no more pain or sorrows exist, only then will we rejoice for the glory of God reigns eternal…forever more.

1 Comment

Filed under Inspirational