The Rain

We’ve had more than our share of rain here in southern California during recent weeks. It’s been a great inconvenience, bringing with it an abundance of traffic and storm-related damage. All that being said, however, I must here admit that I love the rain. It washes and cleanses the world, turns the local hills a brilliant green and breaks the monotony of our usually temperate weather patterns. Some folks are depressed by such inclement weather, yet it invigorates me. I love to hear it drumming on my roof, but I also adore being out in the rain. There’s just something about it that makes my life make sense, bringing both comfort and inspiration. Now everyone seems to love the sunshine, but I must admit that it always warms my heart when the forecast calls for partly cloudy, with a chance of something special. To that end, I offer you the following little essay that came about as the result of one my nights out in the rain.

The Rain
I really should be heading indoors. That=s what my sensible mind retorts over and again. Go inside. Don't act foolishly. Get dry. Be sensible, reasonable, responsible ... normal. That last one always hurts the most. Yet, my heart implores me to remain outdoors, out in the rain. My clothes are soaked, my hair matted and disheveled. I’m shivering from the cold, but some kind of a fire has begun to smolder within. There is an electricity about me, inside me, that my wet skin seems to conduct into my being from the stormy night. As I turn my face to the tempestuous night sky, my skin tingles from the myriad of cool droplets which alight upon me and something more than water soaks into my skin. The night, the sky, the freshness of the breeze seeps into me, even unto the depths of my soul.
Suddenly, I am aware that a part of me is melting, washed away by the cleansing rain. A part of my life, the residue of frustration and worry that builds up in a civilized world slowly erodes away. It slips from me like a snake's skin which is discarded and left behind. A part of me panics. It longs to rush into the house and out of the rain, to stay the same. It wants to be safe and secure and warm and dry and just like everyone else. However, my heart steadfastly clings to the rain. It drags me back out into the night, where there is a peacefulness amidst the turmoil of the storm. To remain outside is to be different, which frightens me while it exhilarates me as well.
I really should be heading indoors. A thousand voices of conformity echo within my rational mind, imploring me to obey the natural laws of civilized man, to fit in without making any waves. To dry off, listen to the news, floss and get to bed like the reasonable upstanding citizen that I am. Early bird gets the worm. My heart reminds me, once again, that I have never much cared for worms. No there is something more for me out here in the rain. I shall tarry a while longer.

The Least of These

I suppose there has never been a shortage of suffering or disaster in the world. The location and faces may change, but some group is always falling prey to atrocities or natural disaster. So much so, that we in the suburban west tend to become desensitized. Oh, the starving children and others make it onto our televisions from time to time, but they seem so far away that it’s difficult to care about them. They don’t look like us or talk like us. They practice different religions. We rationalize that they just aren’t willing to help themselves. Eventually, we change the channel … and they go away. We flush them from our conscious thought with another, more attractive, program and it’s almost as if they don’t exist. We don’t want them to exist, because if we really pause to think about them, it forces us to make a conscious decision: either to help them or ignore them. Neither fits our social agenda so we choose not to think about them. Recently, however, the devastation of the Tsunami caught our attention. It stayed on the front page and in the news longer than most disasters. The devastation and loss of life were so staggering that it became difficult to ignore. Many of us wrote checks to relief funds administered by our churches or other organizations. That’s a good thing. In our home, there seemed to be a tug on our heartstrings to take an additional step in response to the unprecedented suffering and loss. Our church made a commitment to do something more than just send money and, suddenly, my dear wife has joined a team of other compassionate folks headed to Sri Lanka in a week. They will deliver humanitarian aid, offer comfort to individual victims, administer relief spending and build relationships that will help us to serve those suffering most even better in the future. My beloved spouse doesn’t have any tangible skills that would be useful in reconstruction, but she has a huge heart and a particular gift of compassion. Still, we have to ask the question, “Can one person make a difference?” Absolutely! Every heroic effort, every lofty humanitarian cause, boils down to the hearts and hands of individual people on the front line. Someone has to get their hands dirty. Someone has to risk the sickness and heart ache inherent to working in third world countries on the far side of the globe. Not everyone can go, but someone must. Now this is not a guilt message. You can find that in my January 3^rd posting entitled “Waves of Responsibility.” My point today is to encourage each of us to discover where we fit into the big picture. We all have something to give. Some can give money. Some folks have time. Others have specific skills or talents that God can use to help others. Each of us contributes as we have been blessed, and together we comprise the entire, complimentary package of compassion which makes humankind so amazing. We are, after all, made in God’s image so it gives us a glimpse of the nature of God as well. Now, there are lots of other problems in the world besides the tsunami-related damage. This just happens to be the one at the forefront of public attention for the time being. The point is that we all have a part to play, a responsibility to both our Creator and our fellow man. Jesus made it clear that when we feed the hungry, offer shelter to the homeless, and care for widows and orphans then we are doing his work. What is more, He indicated that when we perform such acts we are essentially do so to Him, which also implies that the withholding thereof constitutes a personal affront to Him. So let us not forget those who are suffering so much right now. They are far away and they are strangers, but they are in need and we are called to help them. May our prayers and support be with those whom we send to serve upon the front line of compassion on the far side of the world … and may each of us find the courage to ask ourselves that all important question, “What can I do to help?”

The Least of These

I know that look, the look of pain

I've seen it time and time again

In the eyes of children on the street

And people who just need to eat

I've seen it on the tired and old

Whose lives were spent on fool's gold

And lonely people everywhere

Who simply want someone to care

It's the face of poverty and need

Of famine, flood and tyrant's greed

The face that haunts me in the night

And even in the broad daylight

Imploring me to stop and care

Instead, I pass and blindly stare

Ahead, to comfort and security

And away from those who so need me

My pristine little world is safe

From homeless beggar and starving waif

But not from God, whom I asked in

Whose voice I hear above the din

Who pierces hardened hearts like mine

And melts the ice of stubborn minds

And calls me to reach out and care

For those in need and in despair

For Jesus feels every tear

He knows each pain and every fear

Those with hunger, heart ache and disease

Jesus knows the least of these

So if I turn my back on them

I have, in fact, done so to him

For only by the way I care

Will people know that God is there

Lord, break my heart and bend my knees

That I may love the least of these

By Frank Carpenter ©

Upon A Star

Well, this is something of a romantic weekend for our family. Of course, tomorrow is Valentines Day. That’s a big one for lot’s of people. However, yesterday also marked the 281st month that my dear wife and I have been married. (monthaversery) Yes, we celebrate that. To top it all off, our eldest child popped the questions yesterday and we flew in to attend and engagement party with both families and all their friends. In fact, at this very moment, I’m still in Montana where those blessed events occurred. So, as you can see, this is an especially romantic weekend for our whole gang. My take on life is that every day should be romantic. When special occasions, like Valentines Day, roll around why not celebrate? I’ve discovered that a little extra effort in this area of our lives can pay lasting dividends through the years. Think you’re too old, too young, too mature? Whatever your “too” is, get over it and take a good, long creative look at how to make the other person in your life feel special. Going all out for Valentines Day would be a wonderful thing, but remember that there are another 364 days left in the year to express your affection as well. My take is that if you love someone, show them. If you love them a lot, show them a lot. If you love them all the time, prove it all the time. Even if you’re generally happy, apply the cake principle: cake is nice, but it’s even better with frosting and ice cream. If there’s someone in your life who deserves frosting, sock it to ‘em. Also, please don’t come up with some lame excuse about how it’s too late to do anything about Valentines Day. Hand made cards and dime store gifts are way better than nothing at all. The point is to do something, anything, and always remember that an outstanding presentation can make up for a great deal of haste and frugality. Is your mind a complete blank right now? Then just use the poem I provided below. Just be sure to rewrite it in your own handwriting on a piece of colored paper. If you are reading this and Valentines Day has already passed, just declare your own private Valentines Day, or week for that matter. The point is that real love is worth way more than words so say it with something extra. Do you want to have a life time of happiness? I assure you that you will reap what you sow in the area of romance so put on than thinking cap and get to work. You’ll be glad you did.

Upon a Star
I’ve heard it said the first star
Appearing in the evening sky
Is the one that you can wish upon
And tonight it caught my eye
I pondered what to wish for
When my pondering was through
I found my wish was still the same
Once again, I wished for you
I wished upon that very star
So many years ago
And got just what I wanted
Now what happiness I know
How fortunate I count myself
Not that just one wish came true
But a whole long lifetime of them
And I still wish for you
By Frank Carpenter ©

The Lee Shore

A lee shore is a shore that the wind is blowing towards, meaning that it falls to the leeward, or down wind, side of a boat. This can be a dangerous place since engine trouble or a lack of wind can make a boat susceptible to being driven onto that shore. On the water, there are two ways to avoid the problems associated with a lee shore. First of all, it behooves one to give such a shore a wide berth, leaving plenty of open water to maneuver clear in an emergency. Second, and perhaps most importantly, we can keep our craft well-maintained so that the chance of an equipment failure is minimized. This can help to ensure that we are able to control our vessels and thus keep them off the rocks. The interesting thing about the above safety items is that they apply to many other areas of our lives. I actually wrote the attached poem as a metaphor to someone’s failing marriage. These principles also work for the maintenance of our spiritual lives and our physical bodies. Very simply put, be prepared and try to avoid troubles, especially where the danger is already known. If we take care of ourselves: physically, spiritually and relationally, we can circumvent a host of problems in our lives. Furthermore, we can identify many of the dangers in our lives in advance, the rocky shores if you will. You know what your weaknesses are. You know your own areas of potential temptation. That’s half the battle. Once we identify the dangers, then they are all the more easily avoided. It’s only common sense that staying clear of trouble is the best way not to get into it. So whether you’re out at sea, or just trying to get through your daily life, make every effort to be prepared for trouble and avoid the lee shores which so often loom near at hand. As you sail across life’s blue, I wish you fair winds and a course ever true.

Lee Shore

When a man is sure of his timbers

When his vessel is strong and sound

With bilges dry and rigging taut

His keel deep and well-found

He knows he can bear the fiercest gale

However the tempest may blow

Heaving to, or laying out a drogue

To lash the wheel and go below

But if his ship has grown ungainly

He must be ever at the helms

Lest he ships a following sea

Or a rogue wave overwhelms

He must be wary of each motion

That his struggling vessel makes

For when the weather turns nasty

No margin is left for mistakes

When he finds himself by a lee shore

Trying to claw up into a gale

He must know his canvas is worthy

To the challenge and if it should fail

He must have his ground tackle ready

Being sure of his cable and rode

So if it comes to last resorts

He knows it will bear the load

When waves on the shore are crashing

And rocks loom under his lee

He must know if his crew and vessel

Are up to the task and the sea

If a man’s ship is not in order

He must take it firmly in hand

Lest it founder and be lost

Or be driven onto the land

By Frank Carpenter ©

A Review of Iraqi Elections

A Review of Iraqi Elections
My apologies to regular readers for my silence of the past week, as my creative energies have been focused elsewhere. One issue I have intended to comment on prior to now is the recent elections held in Iraq. The naysayers will always find something to complain about rather than concede any kind of success in Iraq, but let’s just pause to review a few pertinent facts about what happened in those historic elections. First of all, some have suggested that perhaps there wasn’t enough voter turnout to be representative. Nonsense. The Iraqi elections boasted nearly a 60% voter turnout. To put that in perspective, we usually have less than 50% of our citizens vote, and sometimes as low as 40%. Bear in mind, also, that the 60% Iraqi turnout was in spite of nationwide death threats from terrorists. Clearly, it was the will of the people to exercise their free will, whatever the danger to themselves or their families. Furthermore, a significant percentage of those voters were women, which is even more amazing considering how women are often oppressed in Islamic culture. The record should also show that, even in our own country, it took 150 years for women to win the right to vote. Some have also proclaimed that the election might be invalidated by the presence of an occupying force. To them I pose the question, “In the last hundred years, what nation has the United States ever occupied and kept control of?” None. In all those years we have never asked for any more land than was required to burry our dead. There could be no elections without our presence. Consequently, we are a liberating force which has ended not years, but centuries of tyranny. In fact, throughout the millennia of recorded history, the people of that region have never before had the right, nor even any hope, of self government. They have always lived at the mercy of a tyrant or dictator. Therefore, to those who would call our war an unjust war, I merely endeavor to point out that the people of Iraqi have lived for generations as the victims of an unjust peace. Finally, can we justify the price paid in American lives? Since hostilities commenced early in 2003 almost 1500 American service men and women have sacrificed their lives. That is indeed a terrible cost, especially for their loved ones. However, their precious blood purchased the freedom of nearly 23 million Iraqi citizens. If the United States of America is the defender of liberty, and our armed forces are the instruments thereof, then I believe the price we have paid is wholly justified. If not us, then who will stand against tyranny and for those oppressed. The great irony of freedom is that it can never be free. We have purchased it for the people of Iraq … and we have paid dearly for it. This great nation was founded on the principle that each human being has an inalienable right to life liberty and the pursuit of happiness. We also believe that those rights are worth fighting and dying for and we have proven so time and again. Not every nation agrees with us right now. The record must show, however, that many of those selfsame nations have been either the beneficiaries or the protagonists in our historical struggle against tyranny, and the world is a better place because of our stalwart efforts on that front. There will always be naysayers. There will always be selfish nations who remain on the political sidelines and complain while someone else does all the great work of compassion and liberation. I, for one, am willing to accept their abuse because I am all the more willing to accept our responsibility. The elections in Iraq are a great victory in that ongoing struggle. Yes, it was worth it.

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 ©

Forgiveness

I’ve had occasion to spend time with a great many hard-hearted people in the course my life. In fact, I’ve even been one myself from time to time and I never cease to be amazed by the emotional walls folks are willing to build around themselves. Oh, they always blame it on someone else. “If you only knew what she said.” “If you only saw how they treated me.” The excuses are endless. Whatever they are, we find a reason to blame others for what happened between us. Then we chisel those words in stone and hang them permanently outside the door to our hearts. So it is that friendships wither, men and women get divorced, siblings drift apart, and countless children and parents become estranged. You know the story and you’ve seen it in your own circle of experience. Someone always seems to say something that ends up being “the last straw,” and one party walks out of the room, often out of the lives, of a loved one or family member. Over the course of time the gap grows wider, feelings turn to stone and we simply accept that those relationships will never be reconciled. Long after the original pain subsides, and we’ve drawn our lines in the sand, each side huddles within their battlements muttering to themselves, “I’ll be dammed is I’m giving in first.” So no one does, and that becomes the status quo. We must ask ourselves, however, “was it really worth it?” and “is that how I want it to be forever?” In many cases, a thoughtful answer really should be “no” and “no.” In the end, it all comes down to forgiveness. Are we able to forgive the other person, or persons, for their actions and swallow our pride long enough to ask forgiveness of them? Right now, your blood pressure is rising from just thinking about it, right? Each of us believes in our heart of hearts that our situation is utterly unique … and unforgivable. Well, when the thinking gets a little tricky in my own life, and I’m temped to rationalize, I like to look to the bible for answers. In the book of Matthew, Chapter 18, we find just such an answer: “Then Peter came and said to Him, "Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me and I forgive him? Up to seven times?" Jesus said to him, "I do not say to you, up to seven times, but up to seventy times seven.”” Clearly, the point is to forgive completely and consistently. Jesus, of course, backs up His words by sacrificing his own life on the cross for the sins of all mankind. He forgave to the very point of death … and that is our example. Consequently, all this begs the question, “Are there people in our lives who require our forgiveness?” In some cases that answer may be glaring, even overwhelming. For some of us, it may take a little thought but there’s usually a relationship in need of repair. Either way, I leave you today the thought that our Lord has richly lavished us with forgiveness. If that is the case, then I submit that He requires the same of us. Go in God’s grace and try not to be stingy with it.

Forgiveness

How much must I endure, when push comes to shove

Is there a quota on patience, a limit to love

Seventy times seven, how much would that be

How much more has the Savior forgiven for me

When Jesus forgave me, He laid His life down

Forsaking His power, His pride and His crown

Indeed, He gave everything up, in His love

The King, whom I'm so very unworthy of

He forgave so much more than I ever could do

How much must I endure, how much must I go through

'Tis folly to ask with the answer so clear

With the loving embrace of my Savior so near

How much more is required for me to forgive

As long as I breathe, as long as I live

Jesus tells me that I have not given my all

For that is forgiveness, that is His call

I scream and I shake my fist up at the sky

That is too much to ask of a man, Lord, not I

You don't know how I've suffered or what they have done

I'll be dammed if I'll give in and show them they've won

Then a still, quiet voice wells up from inside

Wells up through the mire of my hatred and pride

And a vision of Jesus, in pain, on the cross

Overcomes me and I count my vain pride as loss

The tears start to flow as I fall to my knees

Begging show me forgiveness, teach me, Lord, please

And I see that forgiveness, if faithful and true

Isn't something you try, it is something you do

Have I injured another with my unkind words

Or have I been offended by what I have heard

I must go to my loved one, my brother, my friend

To forgive them and put our harsh words to an end

For as long as a brother remains unreconciled

My witness and love for my Lord are defiled

Seventy times seven, how much would that be

In the light of my Savior and eternity

How much must I endure, how long must I forgive

Until I am broken, and as long as I live

By Frank Carpenter ©