family

Food Impostors

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I’ve come to the conclusion
after how many years has it been,
that the stuff I’ve been ingesting
with the very tiny print
and the multi-syllabic words
that read so scientific
might not be so good for me.

Sure there’re pretty pictures on the package
smiling folks living the life,
so I’m led to believe
they must eat a lot of this stuff,
makes ’em feel better than alive.

Farmers replaced by marketers;
what have they caused us to imbibe?
Why do we do this to ourselves?
Do you think they’re concerned with your insides?
Do you really want to be fed by cookie elves?

It’s years of habits I’m breaking,
no mistaking
the work it would be taking
to put good foods together
instead of relying on my buddy
monosodafoodasortaglutsamated.
But no doubt the things I won’t miss
are being tired
and constipated.

Lord knows we can’t predict
when we might go.
He’s the only one who can say when
we’ll reap what we’ve sown.
But out of respect for the vessel
He’s made,
I’m intent on running it better
before it finds the grave.

A Grandma’s House

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The other day my wife came home and announced something that clearly had her somewhat distressed. We have a pleasant enough front yard, I suppose: a couple little trees, some lawn, a nice flower bed. The house is a Victorian. It’s over 100 years old, and is dark gray with several shades of green trim. There’s a little porch in front of the red door, which has a nice wind chime next to it. Apparently, Lori was fine with everything until I added the hummingbird feeder. That took her over the edge. Anywho, back to my wife’s distress. When she walked in the door she announced, “Joel, I have a grandma’s house!” I asked her if it was the pictures on the wall in the living room of our two granddaughters that provided her with the first clue. If my comment amused her, she made a good show of hiding it. She said that when she parked her car and got out, she looked (apparently really looked) this time. “It’s just all so nice. And now, with the hummingbird feeder, something clicked in my head and I realized that I live in a grandma’s house.” I believe she’s come to terms with this now. However, I may want to run changes by her in the future, just in case. First though, I think I’ll fix her a nice cup of tea, with maybe a few cookies.

Compassion for Twitterpated Individual Couch Jump Velocity

Last Saturday I asked my wife and daughter to help me with a poem by giving me words I would have to use in four stanzas. This week my granddaughter got to throw in two of her own, so this week we’ll have six. Here goes.

Not many are aware of the Couch Olympics.
It’s a byproduct of the TV age, and development
of living room gymnasts.

Many twitterpated fans stay up
all night to view the athletes.
Their dewy eyes stay locked on
their heroes while they compete.

The sport involves lots of sophisticated movements,
using cushions to assist jumps. As you might guess,
participants accumulate more than a few lumps.

The individual rounds begin
with manipulation of the Lazy Boy Chair.
A deft pull of the foot stool
can send one high up in the air.

You would think velocity limited
within the confines of a living room,
but speeds have been measured
almost enough for a sonic boom.

Once, a veteran jumper flew so far
the couch couldn’t catch him.
Thankfully he was rescued by an onlooker,
overcome with compassion.

Random Peaches Phlebotomist Pie

Today’s post could not be more appropriate for a Saturday night. I asked my wife and daughter to donate four words to find a home in four stanzas. Let’s see if this poem makes any sense.

Ladies and Gentlemen
whether often or seldom
if your tastes run
particular
or if they are random
you’re sure to admire
this certain dessert
but please wear a bib
to protect that nice shirt.

You can evenly distribute
as if in a chart
and add plenty of sugar
in case they’re too tart
Let the math prof judge size
cause that’s how she teaches
while the students’ mouths water
over this dish full of peaches.

Phlebotomists know to keep it sweet
so that folks won’t pass out
they come up with treats
and carefully portion
for folks with big eyes
who might take too much
of that awesome fruit pie.

Depression

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I learned today that Pastor Rick Warren’s son Matthew committed suicide. At times like this there is a lot of discussion concerning mental illness. In the main, I find that most of the talk is healthy, in that we talk about different kinds of mental illness and how to help friends and family who find themselves in its often deadly grip. It may seem obvious, but it bears repeating that no family is immune. No matter how comfortable financially, no matter how together spiritually someone may seem, disorders of the mind are equal opportunity foes. Even these days, when we would like to consider ourselves more enlightened, it’s not easy to talk about. People struggle for years with depression without telling anyone, fearing the social stigma attached.

Although I gave my life to Christ when I was 12, by the time I reached college age, my relationship with God had started to slip. Personally, the problems I had later on were magnified by the fact that I didn’t take these issues to God. For that matter, I didn’t seek professional help either. Instead, my wife was left with the awful chore of trying to support me emotionally. She saw me through some terrible times, but I will always regret that she had to suffer such pain trying to help. There are many levels of depression. I suffered for years with feelings of inadequacy and crippling fear that sometimes made it hard to leave the house. I forced myself to work, but was often held back by this unnamed fear. Please understand that I don’t claim to have an easy answer for the multifaceted issue that depression is, but for myself the abandonment of my faith caused me to be so much more vulnerable. I am thankful to God that I made it through the worst of my own pain. I hope in some way by the grace of God to be able to help others who are going through it too.

Two years ago my older brother, Jay, who had suffered with his own mental pain and substance abuse took his life in the same way Matthew Warren did. The resulting pain our family endured was compounded by the fact that he did it shortly before my Mother died as a result of cancer. It’s a time that almost seems unreal now. I understand what the Warren family is going through and I’m praying for them as they grieve the loss of Matthew. I know one of the things they will do is something we all should seek to do as well, try to find ways to help others. We aren’t always aware of the positive impact we can have on those around us. This is a good time to reach out.

Please and Carrots

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Would you feed me please
and carrots?
It’s what this little bit of me
most dearly loves.
For other children
see,
it may be macaroni
but tender colorfully
grown fare
are what please me.

Would you feed me please
and carrots?
Just stay away from me
see,
with those doughnuts.
They only make me feel slow,
I’m certain
don’t help me grow,
and surely
worse
I perceive,
than no lunch.

Right Relationship

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There was a time in my life when the first place I would visit in any bookstore was the “Self Help” section. Later, when I worked in bookstores, I would joke with customers and tell them that I could show them where self help was, but after that they were on their own. Sorry ma’am, it’s self help, your first step towards wellness is finding the books by yourself. Of course, I’m kidding, but I think that if I ever said that, it would have been to someone who knew me and my sense of humor very well. Knowing what kind of relationship you have with people is important. You can let your hair down with friends and family and know you’ll be understood. But while it’s essential to have close healthy relationships with the people in our lives who matter most, the one we should be closest to often gets the leftovers. “God, when I have time I’ll sit down and it will be just you and me; I promise.” But our actions speak louder than anything we ever say.

So what kind of relationship are you cultivating with God? The bible says the church is the Bride of Christ.

Let us rejoice and exult and give him the glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and his Bride has made herself ready; it was granted her to clothe herself with fine linen, bright and pure”— for the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints. And the angel said to me, “Write this: Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb.” And he said to me, “These are the true words of God.”
Revelation 19:7-9

Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, so that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish.
Ephesians 5:25-27

If we want that close and open relationship with Jesus, and want to know everything about Him, where do we start? The Word is the best place to go.
The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God stands forever.
Isaiah 40:8
We can trust that He wants the best for us and has great plans for our lives if we will submit and trust Him.
“For I know the plans that I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope.”
Jeremiah 29:11

So how would you characterize your relationship with the Lord? Do you spend quality time getting to know each other or do you just occasionally throw Him a “like” on Facebook? Don’t get me wrong, I’m writing this for myself as much as for you. I do think it’s a good question to ask ourselves, though. Good relationships take effort.

Sheep Drive

I’m told my grandfather,
who was on my mother’s side,
used to drive loads of sheep
from the saddle
on a sheep drive.
And when I say sheep drive,
I don’t mean the latest
Apple iteration…
You know,
like all those operating
systems
named after wild animals.
I think they’re mostly
predators
anyway.

Back to our topic…

I don’t suppose he called them “doggies,”
the sheep,
that is.
But I’ll bet he had some great dogs,
the kind that pretty much did the job
on their own
without a lot of input from the guy on
the horse,
maybe just a finger point here or there
or some sort of code
known only to my grandfather
and the dog.

So he would drive
those
sheep
to the railroad terminal
where they would board the train
which would take them to market.
I wonder if they made it all the way
to San Francisco?
I wonder if they were told the trip
was sort of a fun
getaway?
If they bought it, would that mean someone
had successfully pulled
the wool
over their eyes?

No Airbag, Bees and a Dog Pack

Bikes in the mold of the Schwinn Stingray had two distinguishing characteristics: chopper handlebars and a banana seat. This particular day the handlebars would prove to be my undoing. Fortunately, I was able to eventually father a child, so things turned out all right. I was riding one day with Alan and David. They had normal bikes with narrower handlebars and managed to make it down the narrow gap between Alan’s house and his garage. I was last in line, trying to catch up (the usual situation) and so had built up a head of steam. David went through. Alan went through. My bike, unable to make it through, stuck fast between the two buildings. However, not for the last time in my life, inertia proved to not be my friend and my body shot forward. Now, the bolt that held those handlebars was in an unfortunate position vis-a-vis my sensitive place. In hindsight, an airbag might have served me well. Maybe even a balloon. Anyway, after a terribly uncomfortable ride home and an embarrassing examination by my mother, I was pronounced fit for taking it easy and watching cartoons, or whatever else was on that Saturday afternoon. Maybe Wide World of Sports. “The agony of defeat.” Ouch.

To be continued…

Ed. Note:
The author apologizes for the juxtaposition of the words: “sensitive place” and “hindsight.”

My Dad and Merv

When I was a kid, I watched a lot of television. After school, especially on days when the weather was not especially inviting, I would sit down and tune in to one of the three channels available. Since the public television station didn’t come in as well, that meant we really had two choices. One of the talk/variety shows airing at that time of day was the Merv Griffin Show. Merv’s was one of the first of this style of shows, and he became quite successful with it and the game shows he produced, like Wheel of Fortune. I believe his style of interviewing was one of the reasons he did so well. He had this way of leaning toward the person he was talking to and looking at them as if they were the most fascinating person in the world. It was almost, but not quite, as if he was a scientist peering through a microscope, discovering a previously unknown species. He was probably able to get more out of the celebrities he conversed with than he otherwise might have. Later, during my journalism training, I think this helped me when I interviewed people for various stories.

Also, when I was growing up, our family owned a service station in our small town. My grandfather owed the business, my grandmother worked in the office, and my dad managed it. As a boy, I spent a lot of time cleaning up and seeing how my dad worked with his customers. Like Merv, he was also a good listener. Often, the customers who came in weren’t very knowledgeable about their automobiles. Like many of us, they simply knew when they weren’t working or when they were doing something out of the ordinary, like making an unusual noise. At this point Dad would become a detective. He got as much information as possible and gradually narrowed down the list of possible causes and remedies for the various issues until he had a direction to go toward solving their problem. He seemed to enjoy this part of his work. People trusted him to take care of their issues. There were many aspects of his job that I know were frustrating, but I think this part made made his job more rewarding. I think watching him work made serving people later on in life more enjoyable for me as well. It also helped me listen for important details.

When I speak with you,
I hope I
pause
often
during our conversation.
I hope
if only for a
moment
to make what you say and think the
world.
It may be the only time today that anyone does that
and there is always a chance
when we will part,
we will each be the richer.