The Path of Least Resistance

As we approach the various situations in our daily lives, there are many choices to make. Often things seem to boil down to two conflicting options, the easy way and the one more difficult. That proverbial "easy way" usually looks simpler, offers the more immediate benefit or satisfaction, and may involve less conflict with related parties. The difficult choice requires more thought and care, offers long term benefit and promises some kind of short term battle. So it is with moral choices, relationship choices, varying lies (little white ones and otherwise), financial decisions, etc. Do we compromise for the sake of short term pleasure and conflict avoidance, or do we choose what often amounts to the good fight? Better choices come with a cost, but usually equate to a sound investment in the future. Such questions present themselves many times each day. Sometimes the issues are minor, yet not always. It may be possible that there is no such thing as a small or insignificant choice. Perhaps a man or woman's life is really nothing more than the sum of all his or her choices. We become what we choose and every compromise, however small it seems, is in effect a step backwards. Our choices determine, even betray, our character ... and our character guides our destiny. Let us choose wisely.


The Path of Least Resistance
The path of least resistance
Often seems the one to take
Sometimes in spite of better judgement
We choose it just for comfort's sake
We know the steep or rocky trail
Might yield the best reward
But we grow weary of our journey
Or perhaps we just get bored
And that moment of decision
When we linger on the trail
Is the fire where the hearts of men
Are tested, lest they fail
Should we choose the way more difficult
Because it seems the best
Or take the trail of compromise
Because we think we need the rest
Our goals grow dimmer on the way
We're not so self assured
Our destination seemed so clear
But our vision becomes blurred
And then there seems no reason
We should take the tougher route
We choose the path of least resistance
Hoping things will all work out
But when, at last, our journey ends
And our choices lay behind
Comes the time for reaping what we've sown
With no chance to change our minds
For the path of least resistance
Yields the least when all is done
But the victory is sweet
For those who choose the harder one

By Frank Carpenter ©

The Voice of Freedom

During the war last year I did a lot of patriotic writing. I tried to encourage the few soldiers I was in contact with, attempted to keep folks back home interested in the effort, even emailed the President several times. I figured I was 4-F, but I could still do my part using whatever talents God gave me. My concern, even then, was that we would lose interest in the war on terrorism, in the Iraqi people, in our brave young people in uniform. Lo and behold, we did. How fickle we are. Many of the ideals we were fighting for, are still fighting for, should not be forgotten so easily or taken so lightly. Let us keep this inalienable right and privilege in the forefront of our national mind. For, when we take freedom for granted, we are prone to forget how many people the world over still long for it, still struggle for it, still only dream of it. Whatever our personal distractions or political disagreements, may we never turn a deaf ear to the voice of freedom.


The Voice of Freedom
I am the voice of freedom
The words of Franklin and Jefferson
The cry of Patrick Henry
And the cheers of the minutemen
Mine was the pen of Francis Scott Key
In the battle of Baltimore
As he saw the stars and stripes flying
At dawn on that smoke shrouded shore
I was at Vicksburg and Shiloh
Harpers Ferry, Pea Ridge and Bull Run
Lincoln spoke of me at Gettysburg
After that bloody battle was done
I was sung by immigrants
As they passed the Statue of Liberty
I was heard in the trenches of France
And I returned at Normandy
Twice, I spread across Europe
As my oppressors fell and fled
Rising out of the hearts of men
Who thought I was left for dead
Even today, I linger
Upon the lips of those who are just
Who right the wrongs of evil men
By making the sacrifices they must
Whenever a people downtrodden
Dare to whisper a prayer of me
Wherever a tyrant is toppled
By the ideals of democracy
I will be there, upon their lips
In the step, in the heart, in the eyes
Of those who struggle against oppressors
For I am their battle cry
I resound throughout the nations
Overcoming both doubt and fear
I am the voice of freedom
The voice all men long to hear

By Frank Carpenter ©

The Grass is Always Greener

Why is it that we never seem to be completely satisfied with what we have? No matter what we possess or achieve, there is always someone who has accomplished more or found a way to buy a bigger, better one. If those are the rules, we can never hope to win. Regardless of where we live or what we drive or who we are married to, eventually we be tend to look across the fence or down the street and covet what others have. Suddenly, we develop that urge to upgrade and lose the joy of simply wanting what we have. Living life with the motto, “I’ll be really truly happy if I can just get one of those” is the sure formula for unhappiness. Is it OK to have nice things? Yes. However, basing our joy and contentment on the quality and quantity of those things is utter folly. Pick up a newspaper, read a magazine, turn on the news. The divorce rate, the drug overdose rate, the suicide rate are at least as high for the people who seem to “have everything.” That, clearly, is not the answer. In the bible the 10th Commandment (Exodus 20:17) is “do not covet.” More specifically, “your neighbor’s house, your neighbor’s wife ... your neighbor’s ox or donkey (car), or anything your neighbor owns.” Its probably fine to have stuff, but dangerous to want stuff-at least to want too much stuff too dearly. The proverbial grass almost always appears greener, yet rarely is. If we would merely go to the trouble to care for the relationships and possessions we already have, we might well discover that they are just what we needed.


Greener Grasses
When life begins to get difficult
And relationships dry out
When prosperity turns to drifting sands
Of sadness and fear and doubt
We begin to notice greener grasses
Across the fence, in neighbor’s fields
And our minds begin to wander
To what that greener grass would yield
We fail to care for our own grasses
So they grow drier still
As we dream about those distant fields
And the chance to eat our fill
And once our minds have wandered
From what has always been our own
Our feet are prone to follow
And the seeds of sin are sown
But once we trample down the fence
To graze upon our neighbor’s grass
It begins to wither up as well
‘Till its as brown as ours, alas
And we discover it doesn’t matter
Where in the world we go
Greener grasses will always beckon
Just beyond the fields we know
But some folks never learn the lesson
They just keep chasing the mirage
Until they perish in the desert
Because they failed to simply pause
And realize that God provided
Everything they would need
Yet they were never satisfied
Becoming victims of their own greed
But if we care for what He gave us
And simply water our own grass
Then we can live in greener pastures
Of our own that grow and last

By Frank Carpenter©

The Siren's Song

Today, a few words about music. I love music, as most people do. However, it can be a dangerous thing because it is such a powerful medium. My own tastes therein are relatively eclectic and I try to keep an open mind, even about those forms of music which I generally don’t care for. As a poet, I also have an affinity for the lyrics of songs and that, perhaps, is the reason why I might pay more attention to what the words actually say. Those lyrics, even in popular and favorite songs, often contain messages which we would openly reject if they were mailed to us in a letter or printed in the newspaper. Countless popular songs, the words of which we usually know by heart, are far from uplifting. Themes that we would never dream of chanting over and over again, we willingly sing along to, over and over again, with no thought as to their content. You may call me paranoid. You may think that words like “brainwashing” are far too strong to apply. I just happen to subscribe to the wisdom of an old computer term ... GIGO, which stands for “garbage in, garbage out.” In Psalm 1, God exhorts us to meditate on His law day and night. Likewise King David, the man after God’s own heart, closed Psalm 19 with the words, “Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable in Thy sight, oh Lord, my rock and my redeemer.” Perhaps we should be more careful what we are willing to have whispered into our hearts and minds on a repetitive basis. Just as the quality and quantity of food we consume has a measurable impact on our bodies, I propose that the quality and quantity of music we ingest has much the same effect on our minds. In the end a man becomes his music because those lyrics become the meditations of his heart. The best way to guard our hearts and minds, and therefore direct our lives, is to arm ourselves with pure and noble thoughts.


Song of the Siren
Music soothes the savage beast, or so I've often heard
But the man is wise who takes the time to evaluate each word
For often beat and rhythm, masquerading as our friends
Cover up the true agenda of the music and its ends
How easily the strong are lulled by the siren and her song
Who beckons unsuspecting souls to give in and come along
Unaware of her intentions and, in fact, quite unconcerned
But a man who cannot smell the smoke so easily gets burned
Indeed, there is a deeper issue for the one who would be pure
When he begins to hum along with songs he never should endure
But the barriers are broken down by the pleasant melody
So he accepts what should offend him because he somehow fails to see
The broader picture which surrounds him and his role within the plot
He sees the cheese, but not the trap and, unsuspecting, so is caught
Yet, sadly, even then the victim quickly loses sight
For he has built up a resistance to the message and his plight
We take the little things so lightly, yet life is naught but little things
The sum of which makes up the whole and whatever that may bring
Music stirs the soul to worship, but also stirs the heart to sin
The end result will be the product of the ingredients put in
If this is true, then I propose we measure carefully
The contents of our music, its purpose and its quality
We read the labels on the cereal box and at the grocery store
Because we care about our bodies, don't our hearts deserve much more?
Music soothes the savage beast, if that's what we've become
But the injection can be lethal once the local makes us numb
A song can be the sweetest thing, lifting up our minds and hearts
Or it can drown the voice of God, and tear our souls apart

By Frank Carpenter ©

Detours

Do you find that your life feels entirely too busy sometimes? Occasionally, I’ll look up from the grind stone and discover that a whole day, or a week or month, have simply slipped away virtually unnoticed. Things that I really meant to get around to languish on the maybe list or end up discarded in the great refuse bin of squandered opportunities. What happens to that quality time we were looking forward to with our spouses, children, friends, even God? We seem to get stuck in the fast lane of the main stream and there often appears to be too much traffic to even attempt an exit. Where do all those moments go that we intended to stop and savor? ... the sunrises and sunsets, the long walks on the beach, even pausing to just sit quietly and think or pray. Those are the moments in life that can make all the difference, and certainly the ones which we remember the most fondly. However, they always seem too few and too far between. Yet, in the larger scheme of life, will it really matter if we were able to squeeze in one more errand, one more committee meeting or an extra hour or two of work? Doubtful. We all have places to go and things to do, but it never hurts to take a detour now and again. In Robert Frost’s classic poem “The Road Not Taken” he muses on taking a different path in life, a detour, if you will, and comes away concluding:
I shall be telling this with a sigh, somewhere ages and ages hence
Two roads diverged in a wood and I, I took the one less traveled by
And that has made all the difference
As we wander through this life, let us also pause to consider taking a different path from time to time, even daring to stop completely for a while. We never know, perhaps it may make all the difference to us as well.


Detour at Thurman Flats
I’m always in such a hurry
Always so eager to be on my way
I’d seen the sign a hundred times
On a hundred other days
But, this evening, on a whim I turned
As I had time enough to spare
And pensive thoughts upon my mind
I reckoned to ponder somewhere
I came, at last, to Thurman Flats
And plunged headlong into
The patch of forest near at hand
As I am prone to do
Blackberries lined the tiny trail
Which guided me through the wood
And I feasted on them as I went
Until, at last, I stood
On the bank of a mountain stream
Where I picked a rock to recline
And bid the summer sun adieu
As the day’s final rays did shine
I tarried a while upon my perch
To take in the song of the stream
Working out the burdens upon my heart
Venturing even a little day dream
How many times have I passed this way
Rushing by on my way to somewhere
Oblivious to the beauty and peace
Which might be discovered there
Today I learned we need to slow down
And enjoy what life has to give
Sometimes we get so busy with living
That we don’t take time to live

By Frank Carpenter ©

True North

We live in a complicated world, a world with so many options and even more ways to reach them. However, in such world, one can easily lose his or her way. Oh, folks are quick to offer directions. The shelves of local bookstores swell with “self help” books. Countless pundits spout their various opinions from every known media, but even those of us who think they know where they are, and where they are heading, often feel like we’re aiming at moving targets. Let us take a lesson from fundamental navigation. In modern times, we use a compass to find our way upon the sea or in the wilderness. A compass simply works by pointing north, thereby offering us a consistent reference point from which to choose our course. The ancients used the stars, which could be counted upon to occupy certain quadrants of the sky during various times of the night or year. While those heavenly bodies all appear to move across the sky, one star, Polaris, appears to remain stationary. We know it as the North Star, and if we are in the northern hemisphere it will always be found in the same place because it is located over the earth’s axis and, therefore, does not “spin” like the rest of its celestial counterparts. Polaris is a consistent beacon, resolutely anchored, as it were, in the northern sky. I find my analogy today in the way of faith in Jesus Christ. There are countless “stars” on the horizon of human existence and, for various reasons, folks seem to pick them at random to chase after. Consequently, many people seem to have lost their way in life because they have discovered nothing reliable to steer by. They need a true north. I have found that Jesus, like Polaris, is just such a beacon. With the bible as a chart and Jesus as our true north we can find our way across the tempestuous oceans of life without running aground. When you look into the night time sky you can always find Polaris right up there between the Big Dipper and Cassiopeia. All the other constellations are restless wanderers, but the North Star remains true. If you have grown weary of wandering or have otherwise lost your way, search for Jesus in the darkness of your life and He can help to guide you. He is the only true north.


Polaris
All the constellations have
Their seasons and their places
Each dances through the heavens
In the gentle arc it traces
Restless nomads are the stars
Which never tarry long
As they spiral ever onward
Amidst the great celestial throng
They might visit for an evening
Or a month upon their way
Yet, in time, they always move along
Without the will to stay
But there is one which never waivers
One star, never out of place
A faint, but steady beacon
In the vast array of space
I am speaking of Polaris
The star which rules the northern skies
The rest meander on their journey
Yet, Polaris never lies
We know it as the North Star
Sometimes, no other star will do
When we need a light to guide us
Polaris shines forever true

By Frank Carpenter ©

Precious Stones

We spend so much of our time and energy in acquiring possessions because we believe that they will make us accepted or secure or happy. There seems always to be something new which we must have. And, of course, we discard the previous versions or stack them away in closets and garages until the next rummage sale. We upgrade constantly, but are we any happier? If there is a God and a heaven, then all that we work so hard to gain here in this life is but vanity, for it will pass away. I recently heard a story in which a rich man died and someone posed the question, "How much did he leave?" The answer, of course, was "all of it." Investments in the kingdom of God and in other people are the only investments that have any chance of being permanent. However, in order to spend our assets thusly, there must always be some kind of sacrifice in the here and now. In the end, all that we gain here, all that we have stacked around us to adorn our lives, will amount to nothing but a pile of rocks. It takes great wisdom to discern what has real value, but how much richer our lives may be if we discover the high road of a happiness that transcends our possessions.

Pebbles
I watched a little girl
Sitting on the beach today
Sorting through the stones and pebbles
Which she kept or tossed away
To me, they all looked worthless
Yet, her childish eyes could see
A value hidden in them
Which, somehow, eluded me
For out of countless thousands
She chose a special few
Based on shape or size or texture
Or some unusual hue
Proclaiming they were priceless
That she must have them for her own
She found value, even beauty
Where I saw only cold, grey stone
Tomorrow they'd be stones once more
Which she would cast away
To be polished by the ocean
And found again another day
And it occurs that she's no different
Than most grownups I have known
Who spend their lives pursuing
What they consider precious stone
Which they pile up in heaps
Around their children and their wives
With the goal that all their treasure
Would bring value to their lives
Until, one day, they wake up
And discover, to their shock
That what they spent their lives on
Amounts to but a pile of rock
When we search for things of value
We must choose most carefully
So we only keep the real gems
And toss the pebbles back in the sea

By Frank Carpenter ©

Where a Man's Treasure Is

We all have priorities. However, when I pause to embark upon a more forensic look at myself, I often discover that my life falls far short of my lofty words. We are quick to spout about who we are, what we care about, and what we believe. Yet, our daily lives betray the people we really are. Perhaps the most profound test of a person's character is how closely his or her actions conform to their professed ideals. Jesus said, "for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." (Matthew 6:21) That is the ultimate litmus test of priorities. Our time, talents and treasure will always point to our true identities. Are you who you say you are? A quick glance through a check book or credit card statement can tell all. Let us live, therefore, lives that matter and count for what we believe.


Where a Man's Treasure Is

Where a man's treasure is, there is his heart
This you will always find true
Wherever his checks and his credit cards point
There you will find his heart too
Each man will spend what he has every month
On what he believes he can afford
On trinkets or toys, on savings or food
On his home or his family or Lord
Also, his talents and his time
Shall, certainly, ever reveal
Much more than his words, his life will speak
In a voice which he cannot conceal
What does he cherish? Whom does he love?
What is it he truly believes?
His time and his talents and treasures won't lie
It is only himself he deceives
Consider his weekends, his wallet, his watch
Where does he invest what he has to spare
Wherever his talents and treasure and time
Are found, you will find his heart there
By Frank Carpenter ©

Audience of One

So many of us are driven by approval. We seek acceptance from our peers, our parents, our clients ... even complete strangers. However, acceptance is but a fleeting thing. Like a fist full of sand, the tighter we squeeze, the more slips through our fingers. And, eventually, the quest thereof will often lead us into becoming people we had never intended to be. Furthermore, at the end of the day-certainly at the end of our lives, there will be only one opinion that matters. For the holy God, who sees all things, will meet each man and woman at the end of this life and judge that life. To some, He will proclaim, “Well done, good and faithful servant.” Others, I fear, will not fare so well. So in the big picture, only one opinion matters. True, life is a spectator sport, but we really only have one spectator who to accommodate ... and He is an audience of One. If we choose to live our lives with that perspective, everything else tends to fall into place. To that end, I offer the following poem. It was originally written with teenagers in mind. However, it appears to apply to all of us ... perhaps even more than we would care to admit.

Audience of One

We all long to have approval
Yet, if acceptance is our aim
Undoubtedly, the time will come
When we can’t win such a game
For a woman or a man of faith
Whose character is sound
Soon discovers that he has to choose
At times, to stand his ground
The world will seek to sway him
From the way he knows is true
And within the crowd, the voice
Of friends will beckon to him too
Indeed, the burden of acceptance
Can be the greatest cross we bear
For we desire to gain approval
From the ones who claim they care
The very ones who seek to draw us
To the brink of compromise
And since we long so for approval
We’re tempted to believe their lies
Yet, he who understands the truth
And the great things God has done
Understands he need not please the crowd
He has but an audience of One
A peer group changes year to year
And friends may come and go
So their approval matters little
And time will surely prove it so
Rather, let us seek approval
From the One who knows us best
Who loves us and accepts us
Though we’re abandoned by the rest
The One who honors those who choose
To stand for what is right
There is wisdom in His quiet voice
And the strength to fight the fight
We long to be accepted
Yet, when all is said and done
The crowd will drift away and leave
An audience of One

By Frank Carpenter ©

For my first official entry, I wanted to convey my feelings about what is about to begin here. Each of our lives, indeed the whole world, is a work in progress and that is an important perspective to keep in mind. The past is an important part of our makeup, but it does not determine the whole of our future. The choices we make every day shape a future which is not yet even set in wet cement. If we approach our lives with that thought in mind, there is no end to what we may accomplish. Being a writer, I find nothing more exciting than the great "empty page" of life. Let it begin.

The Untold Story

We each have an untold story
A whole life yet to live
With unlimited possibilities
To grow and become and give
We all have dreams within us
Waiting and longing to be explored
Too often, they fall by the wayside
Trampled, forgotten ... ignored
Until they are lost in the cobwebs
Withered by worry and care
We tuck them away in the attic
Of our hearts and forget they are there
Somehow, we simply stop dreaming
Working year after year, we grow old
Conceding the obvious course of life
We assume that the story's been told
But while there is breath in our bodies
While there is hope in our hearts
The plot may still be refashioned
From second chances, even fresh starts
If we can but muster the courage
To dust off the dreams we once knew
Dare to dream them again wholeheartedly
We might see those dreams coming true
The most frightening, amazing, exciting thing
Precious, far beyond riches or gold
Is the wondrous, empty page of life
With its story about to unfold

By Frank Carpenter ©

Well, okie dokie. This is a test posting to initiate my new blog and see how it works.