Month: August 2018

“Good Morning!” I heard a cheery voice say from behind me. I did not have to turn around on my barstool to know who’s smiling face I would soon see. It was around eight in the morning and I was in the Tower Bar, downtown San Diego, California. Probably the only bar I knew that had its ‘Happy Hour’ during the morning rush hours. My partner and I were frequent visitors as was the lady who took the barstool next to me.

Without looking I mumbled into my Vodka and OJ, “Hey Melinda.” She did not respond but I could feel those intense blue eyes burning holes into me. And as Tommy the bartender set a double Bloody Mary in front of her, she shoved me and said, “Why is it that every time I see you in here you look as if the world is on your shoulders? And where is that good looking partner of yours? And isn’t it a glorious morning out there?” I finally looked up from my drink and said, “Should I answer those questions in order or do you have a priority?” With that she slapped me on the back and her head fell back in laughter. “You kill me, Johnny! I tell you what, you simply kill me.” Shaking my head, I turned my attention back to my drink without saying another word.

I had known Melinda for over two years, but I did not know her last name. I did not know if she was married, if she had kids or if she was an alien space invader. I just knew her as “Tower Melinda” the daily fixture in this old town bar. Yeah, I had heard rumors that she had been married once and she had a kid somewhere, but I never sat here during our morning drinks sharing anything about life. I guess you could say our only common thread was booze and this bar.

I was daydreaming again when I heard her ask again, “Where is that gorgeous partner of yours, at least he has a personality and will keep this old woman company when I see him. Not you though. Always quiet and keeping to yourself.” Then she mumbled something else and raised her glass seeking a refill. Now I was angry and said, “Melinda, I talk to you every time I see you. Maybe I am not ready at seven or eight in the morning to discuss world affairs like my blabber-mouth partner, Bill is. So, give me a break would you.” As I looked at her for a moment she was silent, then she put her hand on my shoulder, “Listen, John, life is short. If you add up all these mornings of silence and anger you have instead of seeing some of the beauty and good around all of us. You will soon be old like me and lonely.” For a minute I saw deep sorrow in her eyes, then they began to sparkle again, and she yelled down the bar to Tommy as he was making her drink, “This round is on Johnny here.” Pointing at me. I just shrugged and nodded my head in agreement. It was the last time I ever saw Melinda.

Time. When we were kids it moved so slow. We wanted the school day to be over, so we could go out and play. Wishing the school year would moved by quicker anticipating summer. Yearning to be older so we could do all the fun stuff adults do! Can you relate?

Some way or another it happens, adulthood! All those ‘fun’ things we dreamed of become work and responsibilities. Now life starts to zoom past. Our days are spent trying to chase the ‘dream’ and chasing our kids. Years now seem more like childhood weeks. Life a compilation of minutes and seconds turns to years gone by. Old now some of us wonder, “Where did it all go?” And sometimes I know I wonder, the ‘what ifs’ things I could have taken the time to do or to say. Well, as I am writing this, and you are reading, it must mean that I am not dead yet and neither are you!

Time. I realize I have wasted a lot of it. And maybe that is why every day I have such an urgency to not waste any more. Victor Hugo, writer of such books as the “Count of Monte Christo” said this, “Short as life is, we make it still shorter by careless waste of time.” A true saying, if I have ever heard one.

I am sure you hard working and kid raising folks out there will say, “Listen, buddy, I am not wasting time. I have a job and three kids to raise!” I sure agree that you have a busy life if this is yours or you have anything like it. All I ask is that you take time for God. Maybe it would mean you might have to go to bed an hour earlier and get up an hour earlier in the morning to spend that hour with the One who gave you this life. Would you be able to do that?

Jesus said this, “But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.” (Matthew 6:6) Our God seeks quiet time with us and if we are willing, He will reward you throughout your busy, time-flying day.

I never saw Melinda again, partly because my partner’s and my work drew us away from San Diego, so we could not attend Happy Hour for over a year. By the time we returned Melinda had been dead for a few months. No one had a lot of details, that is how it works in bars. People come, and people go. But I remember those words Melinda said to me. Today I rise without looking for a booze eye-opener, thank you Lord. I have replaced that with a ‘slow’ hour of prayer and His Word. That old bar woman was right, life is short. But what she didn’t tell me is, eternity is forever. And if we wish today to slow down enough to reflect on Him, soon time will no longer be a factor. What a day that will be!

Happy Sabbath and Blessings,
John
8/31/18

I live in the deep south now. But that was not always true. For a good part of my life I lived in the colder parts of these United States. And for most of those years I worked outdoors most every day.

Recently we were on a vacation touring around Lake Michigan and during that trip we were in the Upper Peninsula of that state. Driving around in that area where I lived for six years brought back memories of bitter cold days, temperatures of 30 degrees below 0. Memories of snow that fell in blankets up to three feet at a whack. And nights when my well or piping froze up being under my house with a propane torch. Mostly what I remember is just always being cold.

When I spent my first winter as an Ironworker I found out no matter how cold I was there were no clothes, gloves or boots that could keep me warm. At first, I tried lots of clothes. Long underwear with a wool shirt and a hooded sweatshirt. On the bottom, heavy jeans or Carhart pants. Regular socks, covered by a pair of heavy wool socks, inside a pair of Sorrell boots. Lastly a pair of thermal insulated coveralls. You ever see the movie “Christmas Story”? The little brother is dressed in so much winter clothes by his mother that he cannot lower his arms. Well that was me. I learned an important lesson; too much clothes make you sweat and next thing you know you are colder than if you had dressed for summer. The old-timers eventually taught me to dress in layers that let my body breathe, no matter I was still cold.

One day stands out more than any other. I lived through some 40 below days of the Upper Peninsula and 50 mile an hour winds howling out of the canyons of Utah. But the day I recall was in southern Indiana working 100’ above the Ohio River on the shady side of the Containment Building. I had started on the Marble Hill Nuke Plant in August, it was now January of the next year and so far, the winter had been mild.

Local folks had told me to wait for the winter days of January and February. They told tales of frozen rain and damp, biting fog that could cut through you like a knife. I would laugh. Man, I had just spent years working in the coldest, snowiest part of the country. Nothing Indiana could throw at me could be worse. Wrong! As they predicted the ice storms of January arrived. Ice so thick on the roads, not even a studded tire could keep a car traveling straight. But it was that fog, especially working right next to the river. I was being humbled by the weather again.

Even so I had survived until the day we were assigned to the east side of the building. In the morning as we climbed the stair tower, the sun was already up but nowhere to be seen. The fog was so thick we needed a beacon light on the mast of the crane to see where it was. By 10:00 AM it was no better and as we headed in for break my bones were already aching and I was so cold. After break it looked as though the fog was lifting. Hazy sunshine but not on our side of the building and now the breeze picked up off the river. Icy cold and stinging. By noon two of us had first degree frost bite (Sometimes called ‘Frostnip) on our fingers, I was one of those.

After being treated at the first-aid shack and being advised to go home, I did not. All I could think about is losing two hours pay. So up the tower I went. Three more guys had called it quits and the breeze was now filled with biting ice crystals. In an hour our foreman pulled all of us off. I had the beginnings of frost bite again.

At home that night, my body ached, my hands were swollen from the frost. I felt so cold I thought I would never feel warmth again. The crazy thing is I went to work the next day, hating life. Only to find I was re-assigned to a cad-welding crew, which meant I would be safe from the weather in a protected work area. I worked there the rest of the winter, but I have never forgotten that day.

Why do I tell you this story? I guess that I want people to know how wonderfully we are made! This old body has endured abuse at levels that should have stopped me years ago. Along with working in conditions where smart animals hibernate. I have heaped internal destruction on my vitals with gallons of booze and literally pounds of speed. Yet God has allowed me to still be here to tell you these stories. Not with the idea that I had anything to do with still hanging in here. But because He still has a purpose for this old carcass. And today I live in awe for what He has done.

I really like this verse, “He has saved us and called us to a holy life- not because of anything we have done but because of his own purpose and grace. (2 Timothy 1:9) Wow! Do you see it? I haven’t just been saved but by His grace and through His purpose I have been called. And the crazy thing is I did absolutely nothing to deserve it. That is the kind of loving God we serve!

When I moved to the south a few years ago, everyone was telling me about the heat and how my life would be miserable. But when I am hot and sweaty, I think about that day on that scaffold, how cold I was. Bring on the heat! I am smiling as I write this today. God has been so good to me and if you will take a minute to think about it, He has blessed you too. So, if you are out in the cold today, away from the loving warmth of our Savior, take a minute to see all the good He has done. Think of the cross and know He did it all, no suffering we endure compares!

Blessings John,
8/29/18

I was in the used car lot staring at the convertible. It was black with white interior. The first thought that came was, “Are you in mid-life crisis, you are supposed to be looking for a work truck not a sports car?” But I could not take my eyes off it.

As I walked slowly around I heard a voice saying, “Sporty isn’t it? Just got that beauty in. One owner who took care of it like a baby.” “Grrr”, I thought a used car salesman, last person I wanted to talk to, but I heard myself asking, “Is the sticker price your bottom line?” pointing at the $4000.00 tag in the window. He grew silent and with all the fake sincerity he could muster said, “Well, I would have to speak to my boss about that. We might be able to work out something, but he is a stickler on keeping the bottom line.”

With that I feigned to walk away knowing what would happen. He immediately came up along side me and said with great bravado, “Hey, my friend, not so fast! I am sure I can convince him to shave at least one hundred bucks off that price.” When I shook my head he now was totally exasperated and let out a long breath, “Son, I want you to have this car, I can see you like it. Here is what I am willing to do. You hang on just a bit. I will talk to the boss, and I will tell him I am willing to lose my cut on this deal just, so we can get you a price you can feel good with. What do you think?” I shrugged non-committedly still following knowing it was all hot air, but I wanted that car. Within an hour I was driving away in the convertible not knowing how that car was about to change my life.

As soon as I got it home I noticed that there was an inordinate amount of smoke coming from the tailpipe. I guess I had noticed it in the lot but ignored it, blinded by the idea of the car more that it’s condition. Even now all I could think about was taking it down to the bar where I hung out and letting the afternoon crowd oww and ahh over my new wheels. I did just that and as I thought they were impressed. Girls who had never talked to me before wanted a ride and I was so happy to oblige. By the end of that week, I was dating one of those girls, she really loved my car.

About three months later the thrill of the car had worn off. The girls had moved on to the next ‘new thing’ and the car that I had bought with hard earned money was having mechanical problems. In the shop often the bills began to pile up, I knew in my heart I had bought a lemon, but still wanted it to be my car.

It was on Labor Day of that year, I had decided to drive the convertible to the bar and see if anyone wanted to take a drive into the desert and do some partying. Having no takers, I proceeded to have a few drinks. By two in the afternoon I was drunk and still looking for a party. A couple who owned a ranch not far out of town came in and told me they would be having a bar-b-que starting at around five and I should drop in. So, I continued to drink until about four-thirty. Throwing a ten on the bar for a tip, I heard the bartender say as I headed toward the door, “John, don’t drive I bet the cops know your car has been parked here all day. Becky is going to the James’ place in about fifteen minutes ride with her.” I laughed and said, “No I want to ride with the top down I am taking the ‘vert’. As soon as I pulled out of the parking lot I saw the blue lights flashing. I was nailed!

Did you ever want something so bad that you ignored all the warning signs and went after it? Whew, I know I have so many times I could write a book just about them. I remember all the way back when I was a kid wanting a certain bike so bad that I was willing to beg, borrow or steal to get it. I mean that literally. And as I grew into a man it only got worse. I had no moral compass to direct my compulsions and impulses. I did not have the Word of God to guide me. And folks, without it none of us can steer through the waters of this life. It took me a long time to know this, but I am blessed I do now.

These days I still have many times when I feel like leaping before I look. Even when I am seeking to serve the Lord. But I am blessed that daily I have made it a habit to spend time in the Word and in prayer. Many of you know this verse from Psalms, “Your Word is a lamp to my feet, and a light unto my path.” (Psalm 119:105) I like reminding myself of it often, I recommend it to you.

That little convertible ended up costing me so much more than the sticker price. After my arrest for drunk driving I learned that the arresting officer knew my car and was waiting to be sure I did not drive after being in that bar for almost seven hours. I shelled out a lot of cash, along with losing my license for a year and jail time to boot. The car was soon undrivable anyways, a blown engine and ended up in the scrap heap. I had wanted something so bad I was willing to be compromised. I paid a heavy price. The things of this world can still tempt me, but I know they are fleeting. I want to end today with this saying from our Lord and Savior, I think it says it all, “But seek ye first the kingdom of God and His righteousness; and all things shall be added unto you.” (Matthew 6:23) From His Word to our ears today!

Blessings, John
8/27/18

Man, I am tired. I don’t know if I am still recovering from the radiation treatments or if I am just getting old. But I struggle most mornings to get out of bed. It is hard for me to believe I am the same guy who would close the bar down at 2:00 AM and be at work by 5:00. Or maybe that is why I am so tired, my body finally paying for all those wicked ways. Either way I am tired.

As I thought with my head leaned back  about writing this morning, sleep was on my mind. But then came a memory. It kind of startled me at first because I had not thought of Clyde Caldwell in many years but there he was smiling at me that tired smile from behind my closed eye lids. Clyde the Glide we used to call him, the man who could and would sleep anywhere.

I guess it was about 1979 when I first met Clyde. I had traveled down from my home in Champion, Michigan to Southern Indiana to begin work on the Marble Hill Nuclear Power Plant. The company I had been working for in Michigan had offered me a job and it was too good for me to turn down. Construction was in its first stages and there was a promise of two to four years of solid work, overtime hours a plenty. So, I had moved the family into a trailer in Hanover and was onsite one Monday morning in August.

It wasn’t long after I entered the ‘dry shack’ early that morning that I spotted a small, wiry man who seemed to be passed out on one of the lunch table benches. Not that unusual of a sight. There had been many a morning I had nodded off before work, catching a few extra winks. But this dude was out cold and snoring up a storm. I turned to one of the foremen I had known on the Michigan project and asked, “What gives with this guy?” pointing at the old man who now had his mouth agape and seemed to be puffing like a steam engine. Jimmy Green, the foreman, just shrugged and said, “Aww, that is Clyde the Glide, that man can fall asleep at the drop of a dime.” No one seemed all that concerned, so I shrugged also and stowed my gear in my assigned cubby hole.

Soon the bosses were calling start of the work day and assigning crews and without a shake or turn Clyde sat up strapped on his gear and headed out like he had been fully awake the whole time. Curiouser and curiouser!

Clyde and I were assigned to the same crew both of us working for Jimmy. I was happy to know I would be working for my old boss and that our assignment was working the five-foot-thick walls on the Containment Building. And as the weeks went by I found out how Clyde got his nickname. He was one smooth character, always quick with a joke and always knowing what to do. Just a cool dude. But his outstanding characteristic was he could sleep standing up.

Here we would be 100’ in the air standing on the work platform waiting for a load of rebar to come up from below and Clyde would have his eyes closed and I could swear he was snoring. But as soon as the load was in position he would be instantly awake and working like it never happened.

Finally, one day I had to ask, “Clyde, how can you sleep anywhere like you do. Man, I have seen you sleeping with horns and buzzers blaring. Jackhammers making noise that could wake the dead! What’s up with that?” Clyde turned to me with that sleepy grin and said, “John-boy, I have a clear conscience and am right with God. When you are at peace with your Maker there is nothing better than resting with a prayer in your mind and a praise in your heart!” I was about to laugh, I mean I thought this guy must be kidding. But looking him in the eye, I knew he was serious. My heart was so closed to God at the time, I just shrugged it off and thought, “Ok, I am working with another one of those crazy Jesus freaks.”

In my walk with the Lord, I have struggled with finding peace. I know most of my problem stems from a lack of faith, a failure to surrender wholeheartedly. Maybe you struggle too. My best solution for this has been a verse that reassures me that I am not alone, and that peace is possible, even for me. “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4: 6-7) When I remember that my part of the relationship with my God and Savior is to pray and be thankful, and I actually do that to start my day. I find His peace is with me and that leads me to pray throughout the day bringing me more assurance and peace.

I heard quite a few years ago that Clyde went to his rest in Jesus. That he fell asleep one afternoon while sitting on his porch but unlike so many times before he did not spring awake. At the time I heard this I was not walking with the Lord yet and I did not understand Clyde’s kind of peace. Thinking about him today, I realized that I would have liked to work with him one more time and say, “Clyde, I get it now! Peace in the Lord is amazing!” I know he would grin and say in his southern drawl, “Yes, sir, John-boy, I knew He would show you one day!” I think I will look him up in the New Jerusalem. It will be a little strange because he will never need to sleep, and I will never be tired. But, man, what a beautiful day that will be! I pray peace for you all today!

Blessings and Happy Sabbath, John
8/24/18

Writing a blog three days a week can be a bit of a challenge, especially for a senior citizen who has senior moments. After a year and a half and over 250 blogs written, some days I feel like I have nothing left to say. Nothing left to share.

That is when I realize that it would be true if I did not rely on the Holy Spirit to enlighten me. He is the one who either opens me to a past I would most of the time rather forget or show me something that occurred in my life today as I creep along the path toward His light. It really is not about me or this blog it is about His Word and His Way. So why do I lead off by telling you all this? The answer is in the story I am about to share.

Some of you who know me well, know that it was my intention to pursue a career as a newspaper man. From a very early age, I liked to read, and I liked to tell and write stories. I think I was maybe eight when I wrote my first ‘novel’. I still remember it. My hero was a caveman and he fought battles with dinosaurs. Not an original story line but I knew nothing about plagiarism when I was eight.

My serious writing began when I was in high school. I would spend whatever free time I had writing short stories or poems. By the time I was in my last two years I had taken on the role of editor of our little school newsletter. It is here where this story begins.

Most of you know I attended a Catholic seminary throughout my high school years. It was not because I was a convicted believer, or did I often imagine myself as a priest, but I was aware enough to know the advantages of the education the school could provide. As I stated I became the editor of the news letter in my junior year. It was late in that school year I came across a story I wanted on the front page. But to say the least, there were issues.

Like all school papers, ours had a faculty advisor. He was a priest and for the most part a good man. But he and I butted heads often about the letter’s content. He seemed so ‘old world’ to me and I know now, I must have appeared a radical to him. The world of the late 60’s and early 1970’s was threatening to him but to me I saw it as freedom. I wanted our school letter to reflect this changing world and he did not. The article in question was very political and espoused ideas that from his point of view had no place in a school that was training young men to be priests. For certain it had no place on the front page of our school letter. Knowing his opinion and without his knowledge, I set the copy of that month’s issue and took it to the printer with my article on the front page.

We had no circulation. The letter rarely made it beyond the walls of the school, but I wanted people to read what I wrote so I had another hundred copies printed and was ready to circulate them to my family and friends. I had no thought of the consequences or recriminations, only my heady idea that what I had written should be seen. I needed to be heard.

I don’t know how many times in life I have plowed on, without thinking or caring about the effects of my actions or words. The wise book of Proverbs says this, “Wise speech is rarer and more valuable than gold or rubies.” (Proverbs 20:15) My problem even with a verse like this before I surrendered my life to Jesus was that I believed that ALL my words were wise. Most of the time without thought some of the cruelest words would escape my mouth before my brain was even in gear.

In today’s world of Twitter and instant messaging, words have become our weapons. We throw out vile and disgusting thoughts at our supposed opponents without care or thought. It has become easy to spread hate from our couches and not think a thing about it. From politicians to every day Joe’s we have lost all constraint.

What if all of us took these words from the brother of Jesus seriously, “Know this, my beloved brothers; let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger, for the anger of man does not produce the righteousness of God.” (James 1: 19-20) What if all of us allowed the Holy Spirit to do our talking, our writing and even our thinking. What would that look like? I know for me it would look like the one I want my life to reflect and His name is Jesus Christ.

Looking back, I was blessed that my news letter never saw the light of day. The man who did our printing had read the copy and knew I was trying to pull a fast one. To my advisor’s credit, he did not remove me as editor but did place demands on me that kept me from ever writing or publishing my thoughts in that letter again. Today I pray that the constraints of the Holy Spirit through prayer and study of His Word, will keep me from hindering anyone’s journey. That no words I will ever write here will come from my opinion but from His leading. Maybe we should examine our words and thoughts today. It could be like a touch of heaven.

Blessings John,
8/22/18