Working, Waiting, Watching

I’m at an odd place here.

I started this blog to provide a place to work out some of the random thoughts that come to me while driving, while conversing, while living, and expressing them in a more cogent and complete format. I did not intend to for it to become a Me-blog, full of self-disclosure and emotional auto-surgery. Throughout most of my writing here, I have been purposely vague regarding people I love. I don’t believe that a public internet space is the best place to reveal all manner of personal details. If you review my writing carefully, you can see that I never mention the names of my family, or post pictures of them (except the ones with my bride and I mugging for the camera at In and Out Burger). There are certainly no photos of the girls, as I feel especially protective of them, particularly when it comes to cyberspace.

But now I’ve gone and done it. I posted some of my personal drama for all to see. I certainly welcome the prayers and support of my friends, as well as the strangers that have apparently found their way to my writing. Thank you all. At this point, however, I feel I owe a bit of an explanation. I’m going to attempt to provide some detail, and yet still remain fuzzy on certain parts because I still want to maintain a certain cyber-distance here. For those of you who actually do know me and my family, I welcome you to call or write, and I’m more than happy to share details with you. For the rest of you who only know me through what I write here, know that I do indeed appreciate your reading. And I do appreciate the comments and kind words offered. Nevertheless, because I’m not really trying to open the entire book of my life for the entire world, I hope that you will forgive a certain terseness of expression and imprecision on certain details.

So…what’s the problem that has created all this ruckus?

It falls into three categories. First, my business. I have been engaged in a business for 4 years now. I have seen a certain measure of success in the beginning, and the last 3 years have been an up and down ride, mostly trending down -- at least trending well below the requirements of my life. I have poured my life into this business, expended great amount of energy and effort, learned much, and used up almost every penny of my savings. In the process I have ignored much that needed doing simply for lack of funds. I have come to a point of crisis. My frustration is such that although I can’t imagine what else to do, I also can’t quite imagine continuing on as I have.

Which brings me to the second category – my finances. Suffice it to say that I have nothing left. This is a problem which can be managed if one has a) high flexibility b)low responsibility c)good prospects for the future. My problem is that I have low to moderate flexibility, high responsibility, and after so much struggle to so little effect, I am finding it difficult to envision good prospects. A friend recently suggested applying for government aid and the idea repulses me. I can’t bring myself to do it. I have been carrying debt that I cannot pay right now, my cars and my house have some serious problems with deferred maintenance, my body likewise, and I’m left deciding which bills will not get paid this month. This has been going on so long that I am left feeling drained and just tired of the struggle.

What is the third? On top of all this, my wife has been struggling with health issues for some years. We have been living for the last three under the spectre of Multiple Sclerosis. Recently, some of this came to a head when she awoke one morning unable to see from one eye. To cut through the intervening events, it appears to be uveitis (inflammation of the eye) which is usually a signal of other conditions taking place within the body. Specifically it usually points to an auto-immune condition, or a rheumatic (inflammatory illness) condition. We are not sure what this may mean in the long run, but we suspect it will not be very good. On the other hand, we may be getting just a little closer to finding out what has actually been plaguing her for all these years, and find a treatment. The greatest problem is that we simply don't know. The possibilities for this range from the deadly to the chronically inconvenient. One tries not to mentally go to the worst case scenario, for while it may be true (or may not) dwelling there yields few benefits. Yet that is where the mind tends to want to go. It is a discipline to keep a firm grip on reality yet a strong focus on the best possible outcome at all times. For my wife, this raises all kinds of questions about what she needs to do to take care of herself, including considering whether she can continue to operate our home school. These are enormous questions. Mostly, we just want her to be well because we love her.

Of course, all this comes at a price. While I am glad for the doctors and the work they have been doing, the fear created by the news they are uncovering is heightened by the fact that I have absolutely no idea of how I am going to pay for all this. We have some health insurance (for which we pay most dearly – a significant source of our financial ills) but it by no means covers everything. By the time this is all done, I could foresee this doubling or tripling our debt. I’m just making that number up, but it seems feasible. Again, this would be manageable if I could see how I could make the money to pay for it. My challenge is that I do not seem to have the wherewithal within my current business to obtain to that.

So here I am. Something’s gotta give. And perhaps something is. We have been alert and looking to see how God is working in this. We know that He seems to like to work through the agency of the people around us, but we have also tried to be alert for outright miracles. We wouldn’t put it past Him. He has a history of that sort of thing.

Today we had a most candid conversation with a man who has been a good friend, mentor and teacher throughout this process. He brought me into this business. Today he listened. He asked a few questions and learned some things of which he was not aware. He promised to work with us to find a way to make things work. This conversation has been extremely helpful.

I have found a way to possibly reduce the cost of our family health insurance. I will be pursuing that immediately.

We have been amazed at how many people have responded by pointing us to resources, people they know who know something about this sort of thing. Others have stepped up to tell us (and show us) how much they care by actually providing physical help, taking the girls so we can go to doctor’s appointments, or accompanying my wife when I cannot. Others who cannot do that have offered innumerable words of encouragement and prayer, and we are exceptionally grateful for those. In a time when we find ourselves praying more than every, we especially appreciate the prayers of others.

The medication my wife is taking is helping. Her eyesight is improving as the inflammation reduces. We have been pleased by the physicians she has been working with.

These then, are the great dragons of my life now. We work, and we work and we work. That does not stop. We also wait and wait and wait. And perhaps we learn slowly, slowly, to trust and depend not on our own arms, but on the arm of the LORD to slay them. We learn slowly, slowly to live by the power of His Spirit, and in this to ascribe to the One True and Living God the glory due Him.

Arise My Soul, Arise!

Arise, my soul, arise,
shake off your guilty fears;
The bleeding sacrifice,
in my behalf appears;
Before the throne my Surety stands,
Before the throne my Surety stands,
My name is written on His hands.

He ever lives above,
for me to intercede;
His all redeeming love,
His precious blood, to plead;
His blood atoned for every race,
His blood atoned for every race,
And sprinkles now the throne of grace.

Five bleeding wounds He bears;
received on Calvary;
They pour effectual prayers;
they strongly plead for me:
"Forgive him, O forgive," they cry,
"Forgive him, O forgive," they cry,
"Nor let that ransomed sinner die!"

The Father hears Him pray,
His dear anointed One;
He cannot turn away
the presence of His Son;
The Spirit answers to the blood,
The Spirit answers to the blood
And tells me I am born of God.

My God is reconciled;
His pardoning voice I hear;
He owns me for His child;
I can no longer fear
With confidence I now draw nigh,
With confidence I now draw nigh,
And "Father, Abba, Father," cry.

Words by Charles Wesley

Random Collisions

Lazlo's Chinese Relativity Axiom:
No matter how great your triumphs or how tragic your defeats -- approximately one billion Chinese couldn't care less.

Give a man a fire and he'll be warm for the night. Set a man on fire and he'll be warm for the rest of his life.
--Terry Pratchett

Most people want to serve God--but only in an advisory capacity!
-- unattributed

Some people are like Slinkies. They really aren't much good for anything, but they still bring a smile to your face when you push them down a flight of stairs.
--Kevin G. Barkes

Standing

As a rule, Dragon Slayers are not prone to whining. Most of the whiners are weeded out early in the interview process. It is simply not a trait conducive to effectiveness in saurian combat. So part of being a Dragon Slayer is a built in toughness, a tolerance for pain, a high concentration of grit and gristle and grin and bear it.

Even so, one might be excused for the occasional flinch, the momentary outburst, the reflexive grunt when struck. No one ever said that dragons die easily. In fact they are renowned for being tough, clever, persistent and crafty enemies. They will seldom go down without giving almost as good as they get, inflicting injury and harm wherever they can strike. So Dragon Slayers get hit. A lot. It goes with the territory. When you step out of the castle and onto the battleground, you give up the safety of the walls and you are fairly begging to take one on the chin. Does it really matter that much if you made noise when the tail whacked you? Or is it more important that you simply got up to go at it again?

And there is the real issue. It is one thing to stand there and take the hit. It is another to rise again after uncounted knock downs to attack with vigor and intrepid fortitude.

Teddy Roosevelt was a dragon slayer. He understood this well.

It is not the critic that counts – not the one who points out where the strong man stumbled or where the doer of deeds could have done better. No, the credit belongs to the one who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by the dust and sweat and blood – who spends himself in a worthy cause, whose heart knows the great enthusiasm and the great devotions. If they succeed, they know in the end the triumph of high achievement; but if they fail they at least fail while daring greatly, so that their place shall never be among those cold and timid souls which know neither victory nor defeat.

Victory is not mine, yet. Let me just say….at least I am still standing, and that counts for something.

Bracing for the Next Blow

There are times when life strips you and empties you and all you can do is stand and wait for whatever is going to happen. It is a labor to acknowledge the reality of reality, yet maintain a firm focus on the best possible outcome. Rather than seeming full of promise and possibility, the future seems to bring one humiliating blow after another. One wonders where providence leads, what God is up to, and how this will all play out. There is a strong sense that it’s out of my control, and that all I can do is continue to work, but mostly just watch God work. It is, I suppose, a measure of the weakness of my faith that my confidence that I’m going to like the outcome is pretty low. It’s more like I’m bracing for the impact. Here is where I acknowledge that “liking it” isn’t really the point.

There has been much praying for strength, wisdom and grace. There has been much praying of the Lord’s Prayer. There has been much praying of Psalm 23. There has been much wondering if it is all being heard. There has been much wondering if any of it is being heard. There has been much wondering whether if it is being heard, what’s being done about it.

This is all cryptic to those of you who don’t know my specific situation. Suffice it for now that it involves loved ones, emergency room visits, medical specialists, lots of medical testing, limited health insurance, uncertain diagnosis and prognosis, a profound shortage of cash, and lots of medical terminology that does not bode well.

Yeah. I really don’t know what to do here. I have been struggling for so long to slay the dragons, but my quest has been confounded at almost every turn. So, I stand stripped and empty and I wait.

Just Answer the Question

One of my favorite things is to answer the question “How are you?” In our culture, this question fills the role of protocol. It is a social lubricant, not really a question, not even really words, just noise we make to signal to each other that we are social and generally wish to get along. A real answer is not expected. The custom is to return an appropriate corresponding social signal. Once the pleasantries are over, the business begins.

So it is a great delight to answer this question with a totally appropriate but wholly unexpected answer. I have several stock answers laid up, ready to use at a moment’s notice and I think I shall come up with a few more.

How are you?
Outstanding! (spoken with unnecessary gusto)

This is my most common answer. It is simple and direct and the tone carries all the meaning. It makes people snap to attention, smile, and often comment on how that’s the best thing they’ve heard all day.

How are you?
If I was any better, there’d be two of me.

How are you?
If I was any better, vitamins would be taking me.

How are you?
I’m so good I’m thinking of franchising myself.

How are you?
I’m just high on life! Oh Yeah! Thanks for asking.

How are you?
I’m enormously wealthy, thank you.

(When asked the inevitable follow up question, explain in a matter-of-fact tone that you are wealthy in love, family, freedom, etc. Watch their eyes roll back in their heads. It’s terribly amusing. When they say “I thought you meant money.” Say, “Oh yeah, that too.” You don’t have to tell them that you mean that simply by living in America and being better than federal poverty level, you are still likely to be among the 10% of the most wealthy people in the world. )

How are you?
Well, I have many super powers and a colossal bulk that frightens evil villains.

How are you?
Great. I killed 3 dragons today. I’m a little sore, but still…I’m great!

The possibilities are endless. It really annoys some people. Others really love it. Either way, it's good.

Primary Sources

There is a great temptation in this day and age to take one’s reading filtered. Scholars, pundits, commentators, journalists, and writers of all kinds generate streams of words that trickle out of the sumps and springs of our culture, run down the sides of our societal landscape and into the vast oceans of words and ideas that form our collective consciousness. Some of what is written is quite useful, good, truthful, and a portion of it even qualifies as beautiful. Much of it is about other words, other writings, other comments, other stories. We write and we write about writing, and we write about writing about writing.

Case in point – you are reading some of it right now.

Unlike drinking water, however, filtered reading is not purer or even tastier. Filtered water may seem more palatable and feels safer. None of that nasty giardia lamblia, or cryptosporidium to worry about. But in the process of filtering much is lost and something is typically added. When hiking the Appalachian Trail I carried a large and expensive water filter to purify my water. It was heavy, but I preferred it to dropping musty tasting chemicals into my water. But even this filter would add traces of iodine to my filtered water.

There were times, especially in the southern states, where I was extremely glad to have a quality filter. The water sources were sluggish and sometimes stagnant. Muddy water was more common than clean water. In these cases, the filter was a godsend. But as I moved further north I found more and more springs and high altitude streams to drink from. Especially once into the New England states I began to simply not use my filter at all. If I’m standing in a place that is already higher than 90% of the population of humans OR animals, and the stream originates from someplace higher still, and if it is quick running over rocks and rills, I figure that drinking it is pretty safe. I might still filter if the source is near human or animal habitation, either wild or domestic. I might still filter if that water source is slow moving or stagnant. But more and more I found it to be safe and rewarding to drink directly from the source – the pure unadulterated water spurting from the heart of the earth herself.

I think this says a great deal about our reading. There is a generally recognized canon of “Great Books.” The list may vary in length and selection depending on who makes it. Most of these lists are oriented toward Western thinkers and those works foundational to western civilization. Some go broader to include Oriental works as well. It is not that these books are held to be true in all their ideas. They are considered great because they contain powerful ideas, powerfully expressed – so much so that in many cases the ideas contained in them have changed the world.

I have read much about these books. I have actually read very little of the books themselves. As I mentioned before, it takes work. First you have to find them. They are not always down in the valleys, along the highways where they are easily accessible. In fact, much of what you find in along the roads must be filtered. The purer better reading requires climbing and effort and sweat to attain. One has to be in a certain mental condition to get to where one can drink from those wells.

But, if my metaphor holds true, it is totally worth it. The experience of drinking directly from a mountain stream, plunging your face into the frigid water and sucking deep draughts of cold liquid diamond is elemental and altogether delicious. There is no better tasting water in the world. I suppose a scientist could argue, stating that the mineral content is not appreciably different or better than tap water, and that the risk of contamination is higher, but it’s not about minerals. It’s about the spirit of the water, I think.

I suspect the same may be true of the great books. There is something valuable in the work, in the spirit of the original work, the primary source. It is colder, fresher and cleaner, even though the language may be archaic and strange to the ears. The ideas are direct, unfiltered and bear with them a raw energy not present in commentaries and criticisms. Not that we should not read writing about writing. I suspect, however, that I would do well to drink more from mountain streams than I do, and I would do well to read more of the primary sources than I do.

We cannot afford to be lazy in anything we do. We can least afford it when it comes to our hearts and our minds.

Food, Booze and Books

A friend of mine recently commented on my remarks on books that are difficult to read.

Just because everyone else likes something doesn't mean you have to. I don't like eating at fancy restaurants, I'd rather watch a game at a bar than in the stadium, and I don't like any of those books either.

This got me thinking. My comments about the books I haven’t read were intended more as a commentary on me, not a comment on the books. The fact that I find so many of the great books difficult is because they are difficult. Is that an excuse not to engage with them?

Reading great literature gives you the opportunity to sit under the teaching of the greatest minds of all time – of ALL time. A teacher can be long dead, his bones turned to dust, but through his book, he can teach you. You can learn from him. Sometimes this will only happen if you have the courage, the tenacity, the will and, indeed, the intellect, to engage him on the page. It is certainly a different experience from working with a living teacher, but at the same time, it is not. Some teachers are clear, pleasing to work with. They reach out to you and attempt to shape their ideas to your understanding. Other teachers dish out almost grudgingly, making you work for each step of growth in understanding.

The question is, which is more important; the ease with which you can grasp the idea, or the power of the idea itself? It is useful to separate the value of the content of ideas in a book, from the style or manner of the writing of it. There have been certain teachers in my life that I did not like at all. Yet my time with them was extremely valuable. I cannot say that they did not care about my learning. They did. Style was not the issue.

The fact is, some ideas are hard, and must be hard won. There is no other way.

What especially struck me about my friend’s comments is that in some ways it sounded much like me 20 years ago. Eating in fancy restaurants? Not for me. High falutin’ digs? Not comfortable. I have since learned that this says more about me than about the restaurant. How did I learn this? I have paid my money and I have eaten at fancy restaurants. I discovered that there are few experiences that parallel truly excellent dining.

My first experience, and most memorable (we always remember the first time, don’t we?) was at La Poulet au Dents in Norwich VT. I’m not sure it’s spelled correctly, but it is supposed to mean The Teeth of the Hen. I don’t believe it exists any longer. I took my bride there when we were on a vacation visiting family in NH during our time in exile in the Midwest. It was, up until that time, the most expensive meal I had ever had. It cost us over $100.00 in 1989. For a young married couple on limited means this was a significant splurge.

And it was pretty classy. It’s one of those places where the busboy comes out between courses with a little silver whisk broom and dustpan to sweep off your tablecloth. Yet I must say, it was one of the most delightful experiences I have ever had. We simply put ourselves in the hands of the staff. From the beginning we explained to our waiter that we had not experience with this type of cuisine or establishment and we asked for his recommendations. We were feeling adventurous and willing to try new things (as we usually are when it comes to food). Neither the staff nor the food disappointed.

When it was all done, I sat back feeling an amazed and delighted contentment. I had paid over a hundred bucks for a truly astounding experience of beauty and sensual delight. It was completely worth it, and my horizons had been greatly expanded.

I likened it to attending a musical concert. Many musical concerts will end up costing at least that much to attend. Yet we don’t think that’s particularly odd or unusual. This was music for the palate and the nose and the skin and the eyes. It was the shared enjoyment of good things, with someone I love deeply, and whose company in that quiet sharing was delightful. It came at a cost, and the return on that investment was enormous. You do get what you pay for. This is true on many levels.

More recently I have experienced something similar with another friend who introduced me to single malt scotch. This is certainly not a drink for the weak or flighty. It is a drink to be considered, pondered and enjoyed (pardon the pun) soberly. It actually takes a certain degree of concentration to appreciate it. This does not mean that it is a bad liquor. It is just that it is not an easily accessible liquor, aesthetically speaking. But is it worthy? Oh yes. Oh my yes!

Just don't expect to mix it with 7-up. You can drink it that way, but you will completely (and I mean COMPLETELY) miss the point.

So what does food and booze have to do with books? Just this. I am still young. I am growing into these books. I will be reading until I am dead. I will never stop trying to read War and Peace. I will someday actually tackle Calvin. My difficulty with these books simply means that I have some maturing to do. Someday, I may even learn to love opera. Some people for whom I have tremendous respect assure me that there is much in opera that is worthing learning to like.

Just because it is an acquired taste does not mean that it isn’t good. It just means that I can’t find that goodness yet. But when the time is right, I am confident that I will be ready to learn.