Eternal Destiny

We all long to have meaning in our lives, to make them count for something. We want to be significant. The value of our lives has everything to do with how we view the spiritual world. If we believe that our eighty years here are the whole tomato, that there's nothing beyond, then where is the significance. If we are merely more advanced animals, then the old eat, drink and be merry adage applies. Or, in the beer commercial vernacular, "You only go around once in life, so grab all the gusto you can." It sounds happy enough, but upon further reflections it really terribly fatalistic. If, however, you believe in an afterlife, an eternity, then this life takes on a whole new meaning. It means that this life counts and that it has an effect on the forever which lies beyond our meager mortal years here. For at the end of this life there is a God waiting to judge and reward us, the fruits of which may well be permanent. Some folks believe in destiny, but what we must be concerned about is our eternal destiny, the disposition of our souls. I believe that God sent His son, Jesus Christ, to pay the price for our sinful lives and that only by accepting his payment can we qualify for the kind of afterlife we all desire. That's what the bible says. To do otherwise is to resign ourselves to the other eternal destiny. Hell. We should, therefore, live lives and make choices which keep us ever pointed towards the destiny we would choose. Forever is such a very long time ... let's not waste it!

Eternal Destiny
If there is not an afterlife
And each man's final breath
Marks the end of his existence
Then all roads lead to death
So what matter how he lives his life
For all is vanity
If we are born, and merely die
Without an eternal destiny
A man condemned to such a life
Whose world view is so
Is robbed of purpose, for he spends
His whole life on death row
Yet, a man who lives a life of faith
Who trusts in a God above
Can look beyond these earthly years
Through the light of hope and love
Finding purpose that the other man
Neither sees nor comprehends
Because no life could be more precious
Than a life which never ends
Woe to the man who shall discover
Who finally understands, too late
That there is life abundant yet
Beyond death, and heaven's gate
But those who sought and found the truth
How blessed they shall be
For having built their lives upon
An eternal destiny
By Frank Carpenter ©

Long May it Wave

After the attacks on September 11th, our nation was in a patriotic frenzy. We rallied to support one another, record numbers of people attended church together, and everyone who could dig up a flag had it flying. The news was spouting about a new America, a united America. Sadly, our national attention span leaves something to be desired. Where have all the flags gone. I recently received an email from the mother of a young Marine who is currently fighting in Falluja and she said she was disappointed that hers was the only house on their block still flying an American flag. Has being patriotic gone out of style or merely become inconvenient? Have we also stopped praying for our country and the brave young men and women who are fighting so valiantly on our behalf? I wouldn’t be surprised. Where I live, there seem to be a lot of Lakers flags, even some USC flags, but not so many American flags anymore. Let us rally around that flag once again and continue to pray for our country. What began on September 11th, or perhaps even a decade earlier, is far from over and we need to stay focused as a people. I hope and pray that as our soldiers come home they will find our flags flying in gratitude and support of their noble efforts. In conclusion, I am reminded of those final words in our National Anthem, which Francis Scott Key penned during the battle of Baltimore in the War of 1812, “Oh, say does that star spangled banner yet wave, o’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.” May the answer ever be yes.

Long May It Wave
Everyone has their flags out lately
On cars and houses most everywhere
And the words of the God Bless America
Seem to be echoing through the air
Our response to the recent tragedy
Has been overwhelming, it’s true
With a nation rallying as one
Around the old red, white and blue
But once this current crisis is over
Once we have mourned our dead
Will our new found patriotism
Begin to fade in the months ahead
I hope and pray that it shall not
That our commitment will endure
That this is a new America
And not just the one du jour
For the way to honor our fallen
To prove our lofty words are true
Is to continue our patriotism
And stand by the red, white and blue
Let us cherish the land of the free
And remain the home of the brave
Taking pride in our mighty nation
And her flag, long may it wave
By Frank Carpenter ©

For the Living

When the difficult things happen in life, they often seem to come in waves. When it rains, it pours, so to speak. As I have mentioned previously, recent months have brought a season of losses and memorial services to my life. Those can be extremely somber times, and they are also terribly inconvenient. Not that I begrudge them, but the preparations and travel tend to really shake up your life from a scheduling standpoint as well. Many folks think it’s just too much trouble to participate. Some have old issues with friends or relatives that they wish to avoid dredging up. Other just don’t care enough to go to any trouble. I, however, relish those opportunities to say a proper farewell and catch up with distant relations. Those are the gatherings where you reminisce over old family stories, share photos, try to relearn the names of all the second cousins, etc. I go out of respect for the deceased, yet I also go for the living. All those little details experienced and discussed at such an event are a part of our heritage, and some are lost forever after that day because their memory departs with the loved one lost. There will come a time in a month, or six months, or a year when you will be trying to decide whether you want to miss work, travel, wear a suit, make small talk with near strangers, and all of the other inconveniences associated with a funeral or memorial service. When that times comes, remember that while it may be a burden, it’s also an opportunity. Don’t miss it!

For the Living
Why go traipsing across the country
Abandon my job, and my family
For the sake of someone who’s already dead
To be with people I rarely see
Why, indeed, I ask myself
In a somber soliloquy
Not for the dead, I go for the living
And I also go for me
I go to support my loved ones
Whose loss may seem too much to bear
With hopes I may offer some comfort
Or encouragement while I am there
I go to be with the family
Arriving by plane and car
Often my family and friends as well
All gathered from near and far
Which makes it a kind of reunion
Where we all mourn one who is lost
Yet, we also reminisce on happier times
Which is well worth the trouble and cost
I go to visit the cousins
The aunts and uncles I barely know
As that’s when they gather together
And where the family is, I shall go
I go to learn about myself
Who I am, and my history
Knowing that even in times of loss
I may discover something of me
I go because it’s the right thing to do
Because family are people who care
And one of the ways they show their love
Is simply by being there
And I go because when I am gone
And they gather in eulogy
I want people to say, “he was there for us ...
And he’s worth the trip to me.”
By Frank Carpenter ©

Hallowed Halls

I was in the library recently and was reminded of this poem, which I originally wrote while visiting another library at the University of Montana. I love a good library, and as a writer, it can have much the same affect upon me that an art museum or an opera may have on others. On that particular day those endless rows and many floors of books were virtually empty. As I sat alone in the hush of such a place the following words came to me. I preface those words with my concern that some sectors of our society have become functionally illiterate. Most of us know how to read, but we read only what we have to. Education heaps reading on our children but, I fear, usually doesn’t teach them to love it. And, sadly the various forms of electronic entertainment have made us lazy and more difficult to entertain. Yet, when computers, movies and televisions create all the images for us, they stifle our imaginations and short circuit the full cycle of our thoughts. Modern movie and television versions fall short of capturing even the classics and fully doing them justice. Without waxing poetic on the “good old days” I will, at least, say that we seem to be reading less because there are so many more options and, perhaps, less time. However, I would encourage each of us to read more. We must especially read with, to and for our children ... maybe even to each other. So I implore you, please, set the remote aside tonight and curl up with a good book. Shock your family or friends and take them to the library, just for fun. Fight the urge to simply be entertained. Much has been written about how reading stimulates the minds and expands the horizons of children. Most of the adults I know really could use a healthy dose of the same.

Hallowed Halls
Deep within the hallowed halls
of the library I roam
Where the ageless wisdom of the past
and present finds it’s home
In endless rows, on countless shelves
unnumbered volumes dwell
The collective mind of modern man
enshrined within this shell
The history and fiction
of every generation’s pen,
All the poetry and drama
and discoveries of men
Collected, housed and cared for
with the utmost scrutiny
For the research of the learned
and sake of posterity
This very pinnacle of knowledge
this fount of thought and truth
Should be filled with eager students
with the aged and the youth
All in quest of understanding
who and why and what we are
For all who drink from such a fount
would surely prosper and go far
And yet, the halls are empty
the seats are cold and bare
The wisdom of the ages beckons
alas, how few men even care
We have so very much to learn
from the men who came before
From those who built our country
and those who dwell on distant shores
Their insights are invaluable
as they shaped the world we know
And as we mold our future
they might aide us as we go
Dare we live in ignorance
condemned to make the same mistakes
While we could change the course of things
for heaven or our children’s sakes
We owe it to our children
and to our fellow man
To seek the voice of wisdom
in those pages once again
For books contain the record
of our collective history
And within the hallowed halls there lies
the power to shape our destiny
By Frank Carpenter ©

Walking in the Rain

Sometimes it's the little things that matter in life and relationships. In any relationship, the more time you spend together the more of a person's interesting quirks you get to know. Those are the things that can endear us to one another even more than the obvious and common traits in each other's makeup. Over the years, learning to delight in those quirks can be very rewarding. Twenty two years of marriage have shown me that happiness comes from discovering the simple joys of life together. My example today is founded upon the fact that my dear wife loves to walk in the rain. No matter how cold or inconvenient, she would rather bundle up and be out in a storm than almost anything. Now, I could mock her for it or drag my feet but it always seems that I end up out in the rain as well and I have realized that I am also pretty fond of it. Therefore, rain has become something unusual that we share together ... and which hardly anyone else cares for. Some of our happiest shared memories have grown out of our rain wandering. Sounds silly, I'm sure, but those are the little moments which cement a relationship together and help it to last for a lifetime. Whether it's your spouse, your children, your friends or extended family, find the little things which are unique to them and learn to cherish those traits and the moments they yield. In a healthy relationship, there is joy to be found in discovering what makes the other person happy and then simply enjoying it with them. And when they learn that their happiness brings joy to you as well, chances are they will be looking to return the favor. So one moment builds upon another and those moments become the foundation of a lifetime.


Walking in the Rain
She likes to walk in the rain
Or, maybe, take a drive in a storm
Sometimes we just stay at home by the fire
Where things are cozy and warm
She likes to walk in the rain
Though her umbrella is at home in the stand
She laughs and tosses her hair in the wind
Some folks just don't understand
She likes to walk in the rain
For endless hours, all alone by the shore
The rain brings out a playful nature in her
And makes me just love her more
She likes to walk in the rain
There isn't anything that she'd rather do
I try to reason with her once in a while
But soon I'm out walking, too
By Frank Carpenter ©

Know Thy Enemy

Two recent conversations brought to the surface an issue of Christian living which I believe is overlooked far too often. In one of those conversations a fellow believer indicated that she “wasn’t even sure if she believed in Satan.” In the other discussion, we were split on how much power the evil one has on our lives. Do we sin independently or are we lead, or even caused, to sin by the Devil. Interesting questions and observations. If one reads the text of the New Testament, there are clear mentions of the “evil one” to be found by both Jesus and the writers of the Epistles. He is an active force in our world, especially our spiritual world, and to deny his presence or existence is tantamount to a concession of defeat. There clearly are good and evil, darkness and light, contending powers at work all around us. And I propose that virtually everything we do serves either God or Satan, that every step we take carries us towards one of those opposing moral forces. There is a Devil, a Satan, an Evil One, a Deceiver. Call him what you want, but he’s out there and he has an impact on both your life and your future. Success in spiritual life mean success in a spiritual battle and taking the ostrich approach to Satan is the first step towards defeat. In fact, it is one of his most cherished weapons. In her recent testimony before the 9-11 commission, National Security Adviser Condoleezza Rice said that we weren't expecting the attack because we “weren't on a war footing,” even though our enemies were clearly already at war with us. So it is with spiritual war. If we know our enemy, we have taken the first step in warding off his attacks. Know your enemy.

A few bonus quotes today:
“Know Your Enemy” Sun Tzu, from The Art of War

“It’s getting so very easy now,
since no one believes in me anymore” Keith Green

Know Thy Enemy
There is a battle raging
In the depths of each of us
A battle for our hearts and minds
For our actions and our trust
And every thought, yea every step
We take along the way
Can be one step nearer heaven
Or a slide the other way
If we are to be successful
And proceed effectively
It’s not enough to strive for God
We must also know our enemy
Some folks deny there is a devil
Or a battle on at all
Having lost sight of the evil one
Of sin and of the fall
Yet we can only be victorious
Over what we understand
For we cannot hope to parry blows
From an unacknowledged hand
We are engaged in battle
Every hour of every day
And it’s raging all about us
No matter what folks think or say
To deny the power of Satan
Just because we cannot see
Will have disastrous results
Much like denying gravity
And the fiercest weapon Satan wields
Isn't poison, sword or fire
But the myth that he does not exist
For he is the prince of liars
         By Frank Carpenter ©

To Follow the Faithful

It should certainly always be encouraging to read the bible. However, sometimes I look at the incredible faith or our spiritual forefathers and find myself becoming discouraged instead. The trials and triumphs of both the Old and New Testament heros of the faith make the mundane routine of my daily life appear utterly trivial. They lived through and accomplished things almost beyond our comprehension. How, then, could we possibly ever measure up? What could God ever do with my measly little life? I suppose it’s only natural for us to feel this way. Yet, when I take the time to go back and read a passage again I discover a very interesting fact that we usually overlook. Most of those big people in the bible started small. With a few exceptions, they were just regular people whom God plucked out of obscurity to use in a mighty way. They were shepherds, fishermen, tax gatherers, tent makers ... simple folks. Some of them, at times, were even a bit pig-headed, just like us. That gives me more hope for my own life because it indicates that God can take ordinary people and do extraordinary things with them, sometimes even in spite of themselves. Perhaps, rather than a burden, it may be a great blessing to have such outstanding examples in the faithful ones who came before us. So let us not become discouraged. Whoever we are, whatever we’ve done, God offers us the opportunity to start over ... and to follow the faithful.

To Follow the Faithful
When I read about the apostles
And the trials they endured
All for the sake of the gospel
My life seems so absurd
When I consider the death of Stephen
Who paid the ultimate price
For preaching the name of Jesus
I am amazed at his sacrifice
And what of the countless others
Who carried God’s word to the world
In spite of hunger and pain and prison
Stones and threats and insults hurled
How can I follow in the footsteps of those
Who were martyred and suffered so
With so great a cloud of witnesses
Who must laugh at the trials I know
How little my journey resembles theirs
As I fumble from day to day
How dare I proclaim the risen Lord
As an ambassador of the Way
But then I hear the still, small voice
Whispering to me, once again
“Be not dismayed, my precious child
Go carry my Word before men.”
Then I feel a strength well up within
Where fires of faith smouldered still
And I hear the voice of my Master
Gently calling me back to His will
I have no choice but to obey Him
And trust that God has a plan for me
For I was chosen to follow the faithful
Whatever the cost may be
By Frank Carpenter ©

Sanctuary

If you’ve missed me the past few days, I’ve been out of town and distracted with a couple of memorial services which have been emotionally consuming. That being said, let us march onward.

For so many of us life can and does get hectic, even out of control at times. We all deal with those feelings in different ways. One of the most common antidotes for a busy life can be learning to take a little time out, even if we fear that the time can’t be spared. Without those little breaks, our effectiveness erodes over time. I am not speaking merely of efficiency, but of our spiritual effectiveness, physical well being and mental acuity. At times during the day life just becomes too much and our natural response is too simply fight/work/push harder. However, if we can step back for a few moments and collect ourselves it may be very beneficial. Further more, the very act of relaxing for even a moment may help us to collect our thoughts and overcome obstacles which seemed too complicated only moments before. Everyone who is successful at this technique seems to come up with a different formula. Sometimes just a walk around the block will do. I know a man who learned in college to take 10 minute naps. Lots of folks like to break at a nearby coffee house. I know someone else who goes to a park and sits in the shade for a few moments. Others can just close their eyes and pray or read a bible right at their seats. Often a break room, a favorite chair, a quiet nook, etc. can be found right in our homes or offices. All of these methods accomplish the same thing-they take us out of our situation, our routine, for a few moments and allow us the opportunity to refocus ourselves. Refocusing can involve so much more than vision. We can refocus our eyes, our minds, our hearts, our souls. When we do these things, we are seeking sanctuary from the complications of life, like taking a tiny Sabbath in the midst of a busy day. My hope and prayer for you is that you may discover the quiet corners in your own life where you can slip away from time to time and find some peace. And once you learn what works for you, visit those places often. Your life will be all the better for it.

Sanctuary
Amidst the busy thoroughfares
Where the crowds of traffic rush
Quiet corners may still be found
Where the world seems to hush
Where the pressures and the problems
For a time, are held at bay
And a weary soul finds refuge
From the troubles of the day
There are gardens, parks and churches
Benches, pews and shady trees
Solemn nooks of sanctuary
Which can put a heart at ease
Where the busy, the downtrodden
May pass an hour or two
Away from life’s distractions
To refresh, relax, renew
In those quiet moments
When we pause to think and pray
A soul finds sanctuary
From the storms of life each day
By Frank Carpenter ©

A Generation Passing

Today, a dear friend of mine will bury his father. Having gone through the same experience several months ago myself, I am sensitive to how difficult it can be for a man to lose his father. My heart goes out to their family and I will try to support him through the coming weeks and months. Without dwelling on the personal aspects of such a loss, I will admit that in the past few years I have grown increasingly aware of a more communal loss in our society. Slowly but surely, we have been losing our depression grandparents and our World War II parents to natural attrition. Most alarming about this fact is how much of our heritage is lost with them. Their experiences, their stories, their wisdom is gone forever, unless some effort is made to preserve it. Those of us who have always had computers, television, space travel, nuclear powers, antibiotics, and the assorted other fruits of progress now take them for granted. We haven't any memory of the changes and sacrifices which our predecessors witnessed, or how such things affected them. Even with all that we have learned in recent decades, from an experiential standpoint, it can sometimes amount to so much blissful ignorance. Perhaps the "good old days" weren't even that good, but our parents and grandparents are different people for having lived through them. Now a generation is passing, a generation who knew a different world. A world were communication wasn't necessarily instantaneous. A world where the breadth of the oceans seemed enough to protect our shores from enemies. A world many of us have forgotten, just as we have forgotten those who shared it. As our parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles grow older we need to spend time with them and encourage them to tell their stories. We need to give them the opportunity to pass on their legacy to us so we can better understand who we are and where we came from. Much has been written about that generation which is now slowly slipping away from us, and how they changed the world we live in. While there is yet ample opportunity, let us cherish our elders and lend them a willing ear and an open heart. They have so much to share, and those of us who have already experienced losses have learned far too late how precious their stories are.

A Generation Passing
Another of the older people I know
Has died, I just heard today
I sent him a letter a few weeks back
But now he has passed away
Like so many of his generation
Folks born when my parents were
I'm forty, they're around eighty now
And old age has no cure
It pains me to see them dwindling
To lose the stories of all they went through
Memories of the Great Depression
And the valor of World War II
Who will remember the wisdom
That generation so dearly bought?
Who will pass on the values
That generation learned, and taught?
With every person who passes on
I feel a part of my life is lost
As our history and our heritage
Slips from my grasp at a terrible cost
If your loved ones are growing old
Call them, write them, hold their hands
Listen to each of their stories
Strive to encourage and understand
Glean the wisdom they have to offer
From the long years they have known
Before it passes away with them
And make that wisdom your own
By Frank Carpenter ©

Shipmates

There is a seed great wisdom in all the tired old adages about the company we keep. The choosing of the wrong companions can certainly be a downfall, even for one of noble character. For, more often than not, we will become like those whom we consort with. We must, therefore, consider carefully who we invest our time with, as our associates often become the stepping stones to our future. That being said, and applying the principle inversely, the keeping of good company can be of great benefit to us as well. If we surround ourselves with friends and acquaintances of upstanding character and intentions they are liable to have a positive impact on our lives. Friends can also be pillars of strength and encouragement during the darker hours of life, making them all the more bearable and helping to keep us from stumbling. Since I am a sailor and fond of the sea, I have written much within the genre of sailing metaphors. To that end, I offer the following poem for today which explores the concept of keeping good company and how it can affect our journey through life. In this case that journey is portrayed as one upon the sea. Whatever the metaphors for your own life may be, those who share them can make all the difference so always strive to surround yourself with true and noble friends ... and endeavor to be one as well.

Shipmates
In the midst of the oceans of life
Where the tireless swells never sleep
The thing that can make all the difference
Is the company that we keep
Whether at sea on leave ashore
Through the doldrums or fiercest gales
Having a shipmate you trust aboard
Is as essential as keel or sails
When there is work to be done he shares it
Offering council when questions arise
When there is danger his strength is a comfort
On watch, you're obliged for his eyes
When the barometer drops and dark clouds
Crowd the horizon off of your bow
Having a shipmate near at hand
Seems to dispel their furry somehow
When things are quiet, the stars are out
And the rigging sings soft on the breeze
A shipmate can be a welcome friend
As you recline in the cockpit at ease
The journey of life is a long one
The tempestuous oceans are wide
And fortunate he who faces the sea
With a good shipmate by his side
By Frank Carpenter ©

The Poet's Yoke

Yes, I’m well known for my big mouth. Today, however, I’d like to climb down off my soap box and take the seat of humility for a change. In my commentary, I try to convey that fact that I am doing business with this myriad of issues right alongside my readers. As I have previously mentioned, the most difficult thing for any honest man is to coerce his life into living up to his own lofty words. All the more so for one who would call himself a poet, a prophet or a teacher. For those who would take upon themselves the supposed mantle of wisdom must also accept on the responsibility for their words and endeavor to support the message with a lifestyle and commensurate personal choices. I am clearly imperfect. Perhaps even the prince of imperfection, but I do take my own words seriously. My writing is actually the process of doing business with these issues in my own life and wrestling through them. It is how I think. The fact that my musings end up on paper is simply a bonus in the larger package of my giftedness, which allows me to share them with others who may be thinking through, or going through, the same things. I hope you find them of benefit. Rest assured, furthermore, that I also try to read my own work through the eyes of others because I understand the dangers of placing oneself upon the narcissistic pedestal of the pundit. To that end, I take very seriously the yoke I place upon myself by offering you my words and opinions in such profuse abundance. It is what I refer to as the “poet’s yoke” and that is what today’s poem seeks to explore. The wise man, who would speak, must himself be a part of the audience.

The Poet’s Yoke
The poet, the weaver of wisdom
Whose light shines so bright in the dark
Can he bear to keep his own counsel?
Will he, to his lofty words hark?
So quick to dole out the full measure
The world may have earned from his pen
Yet, once the ink dries, is he willing
To read alongside other men?
If his words are worthy, by all means
May he be the first to concede
To the yoke he would place on his brother
Then his pen may be worthy indeed
By Frank Carpenter©

Brimstones & Chicken Bones

Most folks figure that they’ve got all the time in the world. They plan to get things “straightened out with God” eventually, but they are betting that they still have plenty of time to burn. Yet, they are betting with their lives. From my humble point of view forever is just such a long time that it seems a shame to take any chances with it because there are no guarantees in life. From an actuarial standpoint most of us will still live a good, long time. However, there are just too many things that can go wrong. Too many people in my own life have battled cancer in recent years and I myself have had an early brush with heart disease. These experiences have left me a little jaded about the supposed security of the proverbial “someday.” Forever seems like a long way off, but the fact remains that a drunk driver, a slip in the bath tub, or even the odd chicken bone can bring us face to face with eternity in the blink of an eye. Better, perhaps, to have our fire insurance with God paid up in the form of assured salvation. For the fact remains that if anything goes wrong with our plans for longevity we advance straight to St. Charles Places without passing Go. Furthermore, we will meet God at that very moment. To that end I have developed what I like to call the “doctrine of spontaneous revelation.” Basically, if you die tomorrow, for whatever reason, you skip directly to the end of the bible. For better or for worse. Therefore, we should be highly motivated to have all of our spiritual questions answered and all of our spiritual decisions made in advance ... because there may not be a crash course or and alter call offered between the hospital and the pearly gates. Indeed, whatever deal we have with God right now becomes irrevocable the moment our number comes up. So, friends, I encourage you not to bet your forever on decisions you have been putting off until that proverbial someday. Let us put our spiritual affairs into order rather than test my theory of spontaneous revelation. Eternity is such a long time. Please don’t waste it.

Brimstones & Chicken Bones
(The Doctrine of Spontaneous Revelation)
We all have business to do with God
but we’re young and in our prime
So we put Him off year after year
assuming there’s plenty of time
We know Jesus is coming back someday
but who knows when that will be
People keep saying end times are near
but no one’s sure about prophecy
In fact, it’s so darn confusing
we don’t like to think about it at all
Since folks have been worried for centuries
and have yet to hear the trumpet call
So we kind of make this deal with God
that we’ll be good or better than most
Then we set the spiritual cruise control
so we can just kick back and coast
Figuring we’ve got a lifetime ahead
to sacrifice, give and serve
And if the Lord comes back just “bad folks”
will get what they deserve
However, the flaw in our reasoning
which so many of us fail to see
Is that if we should die unexpectedly
we advance from here to eternity
We have merely to slip in the bathtub
or choke on the odd chicken bone
And suddenly, all the choices we’ve made
shall be etched in eternity’s stone
In that realm beyond second chances
where each man answers to God at last
For all that he did, and didn’t do
in the irrevokable past
Let’s call it spontaneous revelation
that day when you go to the head of the class
To discover that God doesn’t grade on a curve
it’s strictly fail or pass
When your backup chute fails to open
whether or not your doctrine is sound
You better have your affairs in order
long before you reach the ground
Because the next stop is forever
so your fire insurance better be paid
You won’t get to choose between smoking or non
unless a reservation was made
Your cholesterol count doesn’t matter
nor how much dough you have socked away
Once you step onto the railroad tracks
you’ll be meeting God straight away
Don’t be lulled into complacency
for no matter how safe you feel
You may have one foot on solid ground
but the other is on a banana peel
So never put off until tomorrow
what the Lord requires of you today
Lest spontaneous revelation
should steal your second chances away
By Frank Carpenter ©

Make Believe

Although we must all grow up, I fear that most of us have grown up too much. One of the things we seem to cast aside far to quickly is our imaginations. Let us not be too old, too mature, too grown up to look at the world around us, from time to time, with the eyes of a child. As long as we have a firm grip on reality, perhaps we need to squint once in while and make believe just a little. If we can see things a little differently, we might discover a perspective which could improve our outlook on the world we live in.

Make Believe
Imaginations, dulled by years
No longer can conceive
What once, in youth, we knew so well
The art of make believe
What once we called a sailing ship
A race car or a train
Is now an empty cardboard box
A carton, brown and plain
The basement was the dungeon
And the attic was a tower
The back yard, our medieval realm
Each day our finest hour
Worn out socks were puppets
And a penny, pirate gold
We could travel to the future
Or the long gone days of old
Every boy could be a cowboy
Every girl a princess fair
We made the living room a swamp
And grandma was a bear
But, one by one, we all grew up
And left sweet youth behind
Forsaking simple joys we knew
For what seemed more refined
And now, with childhood long past
We've grown far too mature
And lost the gift of youthful minds
We make believe no more
By Frank Carpenter ©

The Forgotten

I wrote today's poem while wandering through a holocaust museum in France. The photos of both the dead and the survivors in that place have never fully left my mind. I have seen the news footage, watched the war documentaries, thumbed through books on the subject. There is a haunting emptiness, a hopelessness, in the faces of those who have suffered most. And we who sit in the safety of our comfortable little academic world and try not to think about them, we attempt to blot their memory from our own minds so we won't have to experience their suffering. Nor was the holocaust the only terrible suffering of this past century. Much more recently there has been ethnic cleansing and racially motivated rape in the Balkans, the genocide in central African nations, religious persecutions in Indonesia, political killing by virtually every new totalitarian government, gas used on the Kurds in northern Iraq and mass graves discovered other places in that same country. The list goes on and on, but we don't like to talk about it. Such images don't make good prime time footage so we are often mercifully spared from them. Perhaps, however, it really isn't merciful at all. We need to see it all, to have those terrible images burned into our memories forever. Will it keep us awake at night? I hope so. We forget far too easily. Atrocities are not the unspeakable actions of the past-they are happening in the world right now. And every person who is executed because of his or her race or political views, every child who starves to death while his food supply is held hostage by a warlord, every civilian (or soldier for that matter) who murdered by a terrorist act, is a martyr for the cause of freedom and human rights. Now, in this modern age, the world has gotten entirely too small for these atrocities to persist. Tennyson's Arthurian concept of "might for right" is as valid in the real world of human ethics as it was in the fictional pages of the round table. Too easily are the downtrodden cast aside and forgotten as acceptable losses in the political machinations of the big, wide world. They must not be forgotten and we, who have the wherewithal, owe them justice ... lest they will have died in vain. We must dredge up those haunting images of the unimaginable and drag them out into the light. Only then will we be able maintain the corporate will, as free people, to continue the cause of freedom. No, the world has gotten far too small to look away any longer. They must not be forgotten.

The Forgotten
I am haunted by their faces still
The depth of sorrow in their eyes
By the plight of those downtrodden
I faintly hear their anguished cries
Cries that well up from their
Shallow desecrated graves
Where humans were discarded
Degraded, even beyond slaves
Swallowed by an evil darkness
So severe and so complete
Trampled by the heartless boots
Of an army's marching feet
But we close our eyes, we turn away
Concede how dreadful, what a thing
Then we lock them in museums
So our hearts won't feel their sting
We quell their mournful wailing
With film and monuments and books
Devoted to their memory
But we cannot bear their looks
We dare not let them in our hearts
Where we might feel their pain
Yet we must, lest our resolve grows faint
And evil rears its head again
No, where there is still a tyrant
While there is still a slave
When the innocent are put to death
While they could yet be saved
We must raise our hands and voices
And if need be, charge to the fray
To somehow quell the world's injustice
There simply is no other way
By Frank Carpenter ©

Coloring Eggs

When it comes to racial issues, it would be a beautiful thing if we were all color blind. I'm certain that, at least from a relational standpoint, God surely is. However, regardless of race or color, most of us have been raised with a host of inappropriate preconceptions. The bible says that we were created in the image of God. Since we all look different that image, therefore, must not be based on our exterior appearance, but on the more inherent "inner" traits of man. That image is a heart, a soul, a relational image. Even our founding fathers, in their infinite wisdom, (and in spite of the fact that many were slave owners) built out nation on the concept that "all men are created equal." Most importantly, Jesus made God's love and intentions clear by dying for the sins of every person, based only on faith and no other social, political or racial qualifications. With this rich heritage of religious and conventional wisdom, with so much education and training, how then do we still find so much ignorance and malice in the world. Sadly, we teach it to our children ... just as our own parents taught it to us. Many of us have children and may well end up coloring some eggs during the next few days. I take the liberty, therefore, of twisting a holiday tradition in order for us to benefit from a little continuing education. To that end, I offer the following poem in hopes that you will share it during the next few days, and maybe even give it a try with your own children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews, neighbors, or whoever you've got around.

Coloring Eggs
It was a sobering occasion
when my nephew wandered in
With some racial observations
on the color of our skin
Wanting answers for the first time
regarding nationality
And the myriad of people
who were not the same as he
When I explained it didn't matter
and that folks are all the same
He didn't buy it for a moment
yet he was not to blame
For his powers of observation
were surely keen enough to see
How racial lines divide our world
and have through history
He had learned to hate and fear and judge
just like the rest of us
Mostly from the very folks who
should have fostered love and trust
Yet, no matter how we teach them
we still wake one day to find
That our children grow up just like us
they are not color blind
I took him to the kitchen
we put some eggs into a pan
I turned on the stove to boil them
and carry out my plan
I had a box of Easter dye
which we mixed and had in place
And once the eggs were done and cooled
on each we drew a face
We placed them in the colored dyes
two dozen eggs we made
In every color of the rainbow
and each a different shade
I let them dry and lined them up
we looked at them a while
"Now the real fun begins,"
I told him with a smile
We cracked the eggs and peeled them
and lined them up again
I discarded all the colored shells
we learned our lesson then
When suddenly he sat up straight
and his eyes flew open wide
He understood, and so proclaimed
"They're all the same inside!"
By Frank Carpenter ©

Gethsemane

Well, if you’re into religious holidays, this is certainly a red letter week. We have Palm Sunday, Holy Thursday, Passover, Good Friday, Easter ... not to mention National No Name Calling Week and, of course, we just celebrated April Fools Day. Religious holidays, while good reminders of the truth, can often cloud it as well. We are so easily distracted by the food, the fun, the ritual and social aspects of any holiday that it is easy to leave God out of such a day - even a religious event. All celebrating, church services, egg dying and palm waving aside, I would like to redirect our focus to the person of Jesus Christ, whom we truly celebrate this week. This is the week that dozens of prophetic scriptures were fulfilled through His triumphal entry into Jerusalem (Palm Sunday), his eating of the Passover, His betrayal, His mock trial, His death on the cross, and finally His resurrection. We must remember, amidst all the other hoopla, that Jesus is the Son of God, that He actually lived, actually died for our sins, and actually rose from the dead. If any of those facts are untrue, then everything else we celebrate this week is pointless and we might as well sing our hymns to the Easter Bunny. If we do not accept Jesus as our Savior and Messiah, then we are all April Fools and that is the only relevant holiday. Let us come back to the person of Jesus Christ. A lot of dramatic and public things happened during this, the last week of His life. However, I am most deeply moved by that quiet moment after the Last Supper when He knelt in the garden of Gethsemane and prayed. In that scene of anguish and compassion I most clearly see the Son of God choosing to suffer and die for me personally. Easter is a time to celebrate God’s victory over death, but the foundation of that victory is His great mercy and the sacrifice of His only Son on behalf of an undeserving world. Have a Good Friday and a happy Easter, but don’t be an April Fool.

Gethsemane
Jesus knew his time was drawing near
On the eve of that final day
With the weight of the world upon his heart
He came to the garden to pray
He alone knew His Father’s will
And understood His redemption plan
And though He was truly God incarnate
Still, He was fully a man
He knew that pain and suffering
And betrayal were moments away
As He pleaded with God and wept He knew
There simply was no other way
There, in the garden, that fateful night
With the lights of the city in view
Jesus, the Son of God, considered
All that He must go through
The tears of His sorrow freely flowed
That night in Gethsemane
For He understood his path must lead
To the cross at Calvary
He was Christ, the Lord, the King of Kings
Yet, He knelt upon human knees
And willingly chose that night to die
Because of His love for you and me.
By Frank Carpenter ©

What Lies Ahead

By my own admission, I get a little too hot and heavy frm time to time. For those of you who need something just a bit lighter, I offer the following poem. It was written about this time of year, when the hills of Southern California are still green and blooming. This is perhaps my favorite time to be out of doors. For me, what stands out in this little poem is the way it looks forward. The analogy, of course, applies to the rest of our lives. We tend to find a nice place or something interesting to do and then just sit there and soak it up, losing our interest in what still lies ahead. Yet, there is a wonder to life which can keep us ever curious about what waits around the bend. That is the adventure, and when people lose track of the adventure of life their excitement seems to dry up. May you relish the beauty and wonder in each corner of your life, but always look forward to what lies ahead. That sense of anticipation is an inherent part of the American Spirit and it can work wonders for your own spirit as well. Onward!

The Trail
A gentle mist was falling on
The green clad hills of spring
As the lupine bobbed and curtsied
To the song that wild birds sing
The trail stretched out before me
As it seems every trail must
The promise each new vista brings
Serves to feed my wanderlust
A part of me would tarry
To wile away the hours on end
But soon I’m on my feet once more
To see what lies beyond the bend
By Frank Carpenter ©

Sometimes if Takes a Hero

Once again, there is trouble in Iraq. However, there always seems to be and, as we have become accustomed the situation, we seem to care less every day. I’ve been waving the flag pretty hard for a couple of years, but I forget as well ... just like the rest of us. Then, every once in a while, something happens to make it more personal. Last year, I had at least three friends involved in the official hostilities in Iraq so it was in the forefront of my mind. I just learned this morning that I have a friend in the thick of it once again. At this very moment a Marine named Greg is involved in the fighting around Fallujah. Here is a young man that I have known since he was in Junior High, who graduated from High School with my own son of the same age, whom I worked closely with for several years in Boy Scouts. And now he is clearly in harm’s way. That makes the war a little more personal. I have no misgivings about the war. I’m not worried about WMD’s. My confidence in the President hasn’t faltered. All those big political issues can and should be discussed. But right now my heart and prayers go out to one young Marine on the far side of the world, an all American boy simply doing the job he was trained to do. How many other young men and women are also in harm’s way just now? And how many other relatives and friends feel just the way I do at this moment? However you feel about the war or politics or whatever, I hope you are still 100 percent behind the brave men and women who so proudly wear the uniform of your country. They need our support, and our prayers. When there is trouble in the world, sometimes it takes a hero to straighten things out. Right now, my hero is a young man half my age, fighting for the freedom of people he has never even met in a far away place called Iraq. May we always be appreciate his efforts and those of his comrades in arms.

Sometimes it Takes a Hero
Sometimes negotiations fail
And diplomacy just isn’t enough
To mend the woes of a troubled world
Sometimes we have to call the bluff
Of tyrant, who by force would hold
Others hostage, or at bay
When only force can bend their will
There comes a reckoning day
Then, sometimes it takes a hero
To stand up for what is right
Who has the courage and training
And the willingness to fight
Sometimes it takes a hero
To defend the poor and weak
Against those who would oppress them
To win the freedoms all men seek
When evil forces threaten peace
And negotiations fail
Sometimes it takes a hero
To ensure that justice shall prevail
By Frank Carpenter ©

Honesty

OK, I’m back and ready for action. Today I would like to comment on a simple virtue that I fear we overlook a little too often. Honesty. Even the Ten Commandments, God’s top ten, include the exhortation, “Do not bear false witness.” That’s lying, by the way, and we all do. Little white lies, excuses for being late etc., fudge just a little bit on the income taxes. It’s hard to even get through a day without some kind of little lie escaping from our lips. Nonetheless, we must endeavor to do so because honesty is a foundational virtue, being the cornerstone of trust and character. So let our words be truthful and they will be all the more meaningful because others will learn to rely upon them. It’s a tired old adage, but honest really is the best policy.

Honesty
Every time we write or speak
We make a very simple choice
We can tell the truth or stretch it some
With pencil, pen or voice
Sometimes it seems it wouldn’t hurt
To take some liberty
With what we know to be the truth
So we choose dishonesty
Even though we know deception
Soon becomes a bitter friend
Which can never stand the test of time
Truth always triumphs in the end
For the seeds we sow in darkness
Though we hide them underground
Seem to sprout and surface somehow
Until, at last, they’re found
Our lies come back to haunt us
When what seems unknown is known
We should consider when we choose our words
That we shall reap what we have sown
So when lying seems the easy route
We are wise if we can see
That in the end the better choice
Is always honesty
By Frank Carpenter ©