I love Veterans Day, Memorial Day and the Fourth of July. Those days have meaning to me because my father and his brothers fought in World War 2, and I’ve lost close friends and classmates to war, particularly the conflict in Vietnam.
War and its residual are tragic..ugly….and it rages on even now as I write. Young men and women, fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers and children. There are casualties, including the dead, wounded and their families. This while we go on about our business, mostly numb to the reality.
The following lyric is set to the hymn tune of “Eternal Father Strong To Save”. It’s my attempt to articulate the feelings I feel on these national celebrations of recollection and gratitude.
She’s my only daughter. Sarah Nelson Mingle. I need no other. She is enough. She is complete. Sarah is as strong a person as she is kind, and has never given Pam and me one day of grief, and always the one you can count on. (Oh, and one more thing..two really. She talks with her hands and is truly, the fun kind of funny.)
There are no words in the English language or any other mode of communication that adequately describe the love and respect I have for Sarah, or the gratefulness to God I have for giving me this priceless gift. I have only to hold her hand at every opportunity, be a good listener, give her my warmest hugs and whisper my best attempts to tell her how much she means to me. Oh, and yes, I can do one more very important thing .
I can endeavor to be a man after God’s own heart, continue to listen to His voice and understand that as I live my life, I am not making choices that affect only myself, but decisions that will shape Sarah, her children, and their children. And finally, as I love others well, she will realize all the more how much she is loved….It’s the best way for her to feel the truth of these words, “I love you, Sarah Mae. ❤️
I’m living in a name calling society sounding much like squabbling kids did, yelling at each other on the Will-Moore grade school playground when I was growing up in Bismarck.
People call those with whom they disagree or disapprove, names like “whore”, “the devil”, “moron” and far worse. This is justified as speaking in the name of decency. But it’s then I’m given pause, trying to reckon and make sense of it all.
My go to reference is a Nazarene carpenter who had an “otherworldly” understanding of the human condition.
I thought I’d check out how he handled a promiscuous woman and other situations back in the day. He did not call the woman at the well, a whore. But he did treat her with compassion and respect. Most people know that story, but still it seems lost on us. Pulitzer Prize winner, André Gide said, “Everything that needs to be said has already been said. But, since no one was listening, everything must be said again.”
It seems the only people the carpenter had words for, were people of the religious community…self-righteous Pharisees and the like, as well as those who were trying to monetize the sacred.
I gotta tell you… I’ve been rendered so much grace and mercy in my life. I know what I’m capable of if left to my own devices, and see clearly who I am without the immeasurable grace I have received. So how could I do any less for someone else?
I think of the story of the landowner, who was forgiven, a great debt, but then would not forgive the debt of his servant. I don’t want that to be me…merciless and ungrateful. I want to tend to the list called “the fruit of the spirit”, which includes these words: peace, forbearance, kindness, gentleness and self-control.
Do I acquiesce to those things that I don’t believe…Well certainly not! that’s not what I’m talking about here.
I think that sometimes I forget, or choose to forget the import of this prompting, “it is not by might and not by power, but by my spirit says the Lord.“ I realize that people highly value their opinion, and the sound of their voice…And I am so guilty of that.
I’m slowly finding it is far more important for me, in humility, to be light and salt to the people with whom I interact, than any opinion I could trumpet. Though the anonymity of social media has seduced and emboldened the masses, it is in visceral relationships that we have the most effective impact. Not our loud impersonal voices, but the decibel of living, caring and kindness.
“The one who has knowledge uses words with restraint, and whoever has understanding is even-tempered. Even fools are thought wise if they keep silent, and discerning if they hold their tongues.”
We met at the Elks Club in Oak Lawn, Illinois was the Harold Richards High School class of 1965 we didn’t know who’d be there but there were fewer this time for our Bulldog reunion of the black gold and white
you look so familiar well I should man it’s Stu it’s so great to see you you’re lookin’ pretty good did you hear about Kenny you mean Kenny Beshear well i heard he’s not comin to the party this year
what you know about him oh really not much after our graduation we all kinda lost touch Cindy Maynard and him got married right away and he drove truck for Lefler’s she waitressed at Jay’s
Kenny tired of the driving just after a year and was feeling uncertain about his career but just when baby Emma came onto the scene the military asked him to be all he could be
he was drafted in the Army 11 Bravo 1rst Cav pulled a nine month tour of duty First Field Force Viet Nam Ronnie Wade was there with him friends back in the day good times til a tripwire took Ronnie away
when Kenny got stateside he was messed up real bad with a minefield of nightmares blowing up in rehab spent months in the V.A. they do the best that they can but they couldn’t put Kenny back together again
he gets SSI checks and sells copper and cans in Blue Ash Ohio at the recycling plant when he split up with Cindy he never called her again kept on drinking and thinking with a mind that don’t mend
cancer took Cindy about two months ago she never remarried raised her Emmie alone and the last thing she told her Em I want you to know you can still have your dreams if you never lose hope
so they’re no longer with us and that brings me to tears everybody liked Kenny and Cindy Beshear so in living or dying I know it’s so true you just don’t know the dance life is taking you to
Today on my autumn walk, I was listening to “The Ballet” written by David Foster and the brilliant composer/orchestrator, Jeremy Lubbock. This beautiful composition moves me deeply. I worked with Jeremy on a number of projects, and it was just last year that he passed on.
I began thinking about him and other friends and family that I’ve lost. And in these musical moments of reminisce, my mind drifted off to these precious ones, and our seasons together. They spun my thoughts to the beauty of life, and the incredible gift of being able to take my next breath, the loveliness of things like ballet and birds in flight, winter fires, tears of joy, the sound of happy children’s voices, hugging someone and stuff like that. As I listened to the music, it gave me a sense of hope for what can be.
I find myself contending in this world of the here and now, aswim in the great philosophical divide and turmoil of international conflict, economic sufferings of the poor, weather disasters and fires, nuclear threat and what will be a very cold Ukrainian winter. In this season of elections, I’m reminded of this one thing.
When I had my cancer surgery, I never thought about Republicans Democrats are independents caring for me on the operating table or preparing me for surgery…But they were. When I was holding Pam‘s hand in the recovery room after finding out that the operation was successful, I was so thankful for each one who had helped bring me back to wellness.
So I pray for a heart that desires to listen more than impune, that sees past political disagreement, and holds to a humility of spirit and action as I encounter and coexist in this country as well the planet. I want it to be my perspective…because when I lose touch of that…I begin to die a little, and everything around me seems to die as well.
As I try to keep my balance with Grand jeté and pirouette, in this the ballet of life… let me be graceful in the dance…and let me be grateful again today…let me be grateful again tomorrow…and again the next day…and again the day after that…and the next.
I was thinking today about people whose lives have not turned out in the way they expected, and they struggle now. Thinking about them is nice, but being present with them, giving them aid or praying for them… even better.
COLD LONELY NIGHTS
O weary heart turn this aching to verse For my life has been sudden And so unrehearsed
We were children of springtime but those bright days rushed by into summers of family and the labor of time
Watermelon sweetness tomatoes and squash saw the queer charm of seasons bring a change of the guard
Now with unshirted arms of autumn’s bare branch life jigs in the fog of a days gone by dance
Winter is coming don’t know what will be but on cold lonely nights O God comfort me yes on cold lonely nights O God comfort me
This sweet bairn named Lillibet Was pure and carefree She lived in a world Made of castles and kings A Corgi named Dookie Was her favorite pet And she also loved riding On a pony named Peg
But her father King George passed away suddenly And the people were singing God Save The Queen And at her coronation Took serious God’s vows Felt the weight of her crown Yet never wavered at all
Well that’s when i met her And then ever since I’ve had long distance history With the queen and her prince Elizabeth reigned Over commonwealth realms Not a fairy book tale That pretenders would tell
Throughout her long life her duty remained A watch tower of England The Defender of Faith Near seventy years Every world leader known Shook her regal right hand Some were tyrants some popes
Each night of her life She kneeled by her bed And prayed for her charge Facing challenging ends As well her own family Disasters and war And held to her faith As ever before
She weaved through the changes In culture and trends Constantly working Strong to the end Her wave with a smile and always the purse Served her whole life On a dutiful course
She left old Balmoral And Buckingham then Onto Westminster Hall Finally Windsor to rest At home with the angels with saints by her side There a crown of rejoicing And the great crown of life
In the morrow the mourners Will arrive to attend a stirring memorial of a life so well lived But that celebration could never compare to the glory in heaven When God welcomed her there
The Human Wave 