His Only Son

Well, we’re right in the midst of that season where our time, money and energies seem to be consumed by everything but the true meaning of Christmas. So I take the liberty of offering the following poem, which is actually a rather true story about one late night in my own parenting past. It was one of those amazing moments when what you know and what you feel suddenly collide with staggering eternal truth. My prayer for you this season is that you may have a similar experience and that, if only for a moment, all the glitter and commercialism will fade away and the true wonder of that first Christmas comes shining through for you. That’s the moment when all the presents and parties and trees suddenly cease to matter and you come face to face with the Jesus whom God sent to us on that first Christmas day. Merry Christmas to all!

“For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life.” John 3:16

His Only Son
It was Christmas Eve around midnight
the presents were under the tree
The stockings were stuffed, but
somehow it just didn't feel like Christmas to me
We had read the Christmas story together
before the kids went to bed
But all night I had felt kind of empty
somewhere in my heart or my head
The magic of Christmas was missing
it had faded for me through the years
As tradition became repetition
Until I no longer held Christmas dear
Instead it seemed more of a bother
and an expensive bother at that
Nothing more than an inconvenience
more mess, more bills, more fat
It was late, far too late, I imagined
and the end of a very long day
But I figured I better look in on the kids
before I hit the hay
In my son's room I had a strange feeling
as if something was left out of place
Then I noticed the moon light streaming in
and how it lit up his young face
I thought to myself, "sure, it's Christmas,
there must be sugar plums dancing in there"
I gave him a kiss as I reached down
to brush back a wisp of his hair
Then I knew, in an instant, I saw it
what really happened on Christmas day
As my heart raced back to another child
long ago and far away
To a boy who was sleeping, as mine did
on that very first Christmas night
I saw his peaceful face awash
in the very same moonlight
Then I realized, finally, what God did
and the depth of the terrible price
God paid when He offered His only Son
for us all as a sacrifice
Of course, now I saw it so clearly
in the light of my love for my son
My own flesh and blood, whom I certainly
never would give up for anyone
But that's just what God did with Jesus
he sent Him to suffer and die
God sent Him because of His love for me
as I saw it I started to cry
And me, I was tired of Christmas
but I just didn't know what it meant
I had gotten too busy to notice the Savior
I knew that God had sent
I was filled with the joy and wonder
which eluded me all of these years
Now it was there, I could feel it
as it came flooding in through the tears
There, alone on my knees, in the darkness
I finally understood
That on Christmas God gave the greatest
gift of love that anyone could
By Frank Carpenter ©

Thanksgiving

Last weekend, as we were getting a jump on some Christmas and Thanksgiving shopping, we visited both Wal-Mart and Costco. During those two stops I was taken aback by the fecundity of the products available to choose from. Just walking down the canned and packaged food isles filled me with wonder. No, I didn’t just fall off of the turnip truck. It’s just that we rarely stop and consider how fortunate we in terms the variety and quantity of everything around us in our relatively prosperous corner of this free society. When I thought of the millions of people who don’t have enough to eat each day, compared to how much we have, it certainly put things in perspective. I live in an area, and with a mindset, that sometimes leads me to think that I’m somewhat poor. However, this is light years from the truth. The fact that I have a solid roof over my head and food enough for tonight actually puts me in the upper echelon of global prosperity. Having a good job, a house, cars, vacations, education, credit, and investments makes me quite prosperous, if not downright rich in the big picture. Yet, because someone always has more, it sometimes feels as if I have less. This is such a subjective fallacy. When we compare, we almost always compare up rather than down. And when I add in that I’m happily married, have great kids, good health, supportive families, countless friends, a saving faith, and an elaborate support system it becomes apparent that I am totally and undeniably blessed beyond what anyone should expect or deserve. You see, it really boils down to having a proper perspective.

During this week of Thanksgiving, I’m reminded once again of how truly fortunate I am. Especially with the Christmas season upon us it would be easy to dwell on the fact that I don’t have everything that I want, or that I can’t buy everything that I would like to buy for my loved ones. However, based upon the above, it becomes crystal clear that I have everything I need. Indeed, it would be difficult to argue that I lack for anything that really matters. I love and appreciate what I do have in my life. That is thankfulness, and it’s about wanting what you have rather than pining for what you don’t have.

As you prepare for your own Thanksgiving celebration, I encourage you to take an inventory of your own blessings as I have above. You might discover that you have even more to be thankful for than you ever imagined. Let’s be sure to share this with our friends and loved ones, and make sure that they know how thankful we are for them as well. And let’s be sure to thank God for our countless blessings. A thankful heart is the foundation of happiness, and that is my wish for you this week! Travel safe, appreciate everything in your life, and communicate it to others.

A Gratitude
Thank you, Lord, for the blessings
You shower upon me each day
For the beauty of the creation
That you scatter along my way
Thank You, oh God, for the miracles
Which pour forth ever from You
May my eyes ever be open
To the miraculous things you do
Thank You for your compassion
For the depths of your loving heart
For working daily in people’s lives
And allowing me to play a part
Thank You, Lord, for everything
You have been so good to me
May mine be a life of gratitude
Which echoes praises back to Thee
By Frank Carpenter ©

Daryl's Garden

Today’s poem grew out of a recent summer visit to southern Washington. While there we ate a lot fresh produce, much of which came from the garden of a family friend by the name of Daryl. We were amazed by both the quality and the quantity of this produce, and it was immediately evident that the purveyor thereof truly had a gift, as well as a passion, for gardening. Although I didn’t meet Daryl, I know he is a talented and devoted physician by day and that his extensive garden is more of an avocation. The dictionary defines avocation as, “a calling or occupation; a hobby or pastime,” and that concept is what I’d like to explore further together.

Now my poem may be humorous, but it’s merely a lighthearted look at both the quality and the quantity of the fruits of one man’s particular passion. It’s not his job, but it’s clearly something that he expends a great deal of effort on, and something that other people benefit from as well. I’m guessing that Daryl’s gardening is also a satisfying and enjoyable pastime. These traits are the mark of an avocation. In addition to our specific careers, many of us identify ourselves with various extracurricular activities. For instance, you are reading mine right now. Our business cards may identify us as doctor, retail clerk, accountant, homemaker, bus driver and the like. However, we often identify ourselves differently, as do others. Along with our vocational titles, we may also identify ourselves as gardener, writer, stamp collector, aunt, sports fan, chef, auto enthusiast, artist, musician, etc. These other areas of interest sometimes define us even more than our actual jobs, which is an interesting concept. The question is, “What are you?” How do you spend your leisure time? What magazines do you subscribe to? What do you talk about at parties? What activities do others associate you with? What do you consider your areas of giftedness? What do you call yourself? These may be indicators of your own avocation. In some cases, folks may even consider their interests as a calling.

My point here is that these areas of strong interest, these avocations, can be meaningful areas of our lives which may well be worth identifying and developing. They often are the root of significant satisfaction, can be pursued through retirement, and may even become integral parts of our personal legacy. Avocations are also wonderful to share with the others in our lives, though we must be careful not to let them replace relationships. We all know of folks, some who are related to us, whose personal pursuits became obsessive and turned inward to exclude others. We need to be sure that our avocations make us interesting, rather than eccentric or isolated. For when we share them with our friends, family, children, and grandchildren they can become a meaningful personal touch point, one that can even outlive us through the lives of others who were affected by our passions.

So who are you, really? What defines you? These are interesting questions to ponder and would prove a valuable springboard towards self discovery. As I indicated earlier, I’m all about words. I love to write and share what I write. What about you? And the inspiration for this discussion brings us back to Daryl, the gardener. I still haven’t met him, but in a way I understand his passion because I have partaken of it in a very tangible way.

Think about what your own avocation might be and make an effort to explore it. You never know what you might discover about yourself, nor what an encouragement it may turn out to be for the other people in your life. As you read these words, I hope my own avocation has touched you. And the next time you drive by a well-tended garden think of Daryl and how his passion provided not only nutrition for my body, but also nourishment and inspiration for my mind … and now yours.

Daryl’s Garden
Since we arrived in Washington
And settled ourselves here
A common phrase has echoed
Through each meal in our ears
All discussions gastronomic
Since the moment that we came
Have been punctuated recently
By a single honored name
Spoken of in hushed and reverent tones
This purveyor of produce
Seems to be a gardening icon
For those who sauté, roast and juice
His name apparently is Daryl
The man chefs far and wide adore
His garden, Shangri La to vegans
He’s the prince of herbivores
His strawberries are famous
And even more so in ice cream
His collard greens and spinach
Are a macrobiotic dream
He is a titan of tomatoes
Garlic, lettuce and zucchini
His a cruciferous cornucopia
Topped with perfect raspberries
Every time we open up the fridge
Or through the kitchen stroll
We hear, “it came from Daryl’s garden”
He’s veg-ubiquitous, bless his soul
At breakfast lunch or dinner
The produce story is the same
If it’s food that’s green and grows
Then it from Daryl’s garden came
By Frank Carpenter ©

Perspective

In our everyday lives it’s so easy to develop tunnel vision. The little circle of our daily experience often becomes the whole world of our conscious thought. This is especially true if we remain constantly engaged in activities which demand our full attention or commitment. Whether it’s work or children, or some other area of focus, the scope of our perspective can slowly close around us until we become unaware of what lies beyond. This sometimes leaves people feeling trapped or helpless, or unable to imagine what lies outside their field of vision. Then folks, without even realizing it, concede emotionally and spiritually to their current reality. In short we become near sighted. This happens to all of us. However, a change of pace or a small dose of free time and open space can make a remarkable difference in our view of the world around us, as well as the people who share it with us.

A few days ago I had the opportunity to stand on a mountaintop by myself and ponder some of these thoughts. It’s amazing what a little free time, open space, and a view of the far horizon can do for the soul. I was refreshed and inspired, to say the least. For a change I think I shall not pontificate further, but simply let the poem and the pictures speak for themselves. That’s Brian Head Peak, in Utah, and the view really was outstanding. I sincerely hope it may broaden your horizons as well.

Perspective
Sometimes we grow myopic
In desperate need of something new
When the nearest fence or building
Seems to be our only view
Then we forget the far horizons
Which ring us ‘round on every side
And our present world shrinks
To just the place where we reside
But then I stand upon a mountain top
As, indeed, I do right now
And I feel like Columbus
Who saw a larger world somehow
The distant peaks and valleys
That stretch out beneath my feet
Beckon to the wild heart in me
And make my life more complete
As I survey that larger world
From each compass point I see
Countless new adventures waiting
With endless possibilities
And my little world of yesterday
Which I had timidly clung to
Has been shattered by this mountain
By far horizons and vistas new
By Frank Carpenter ©

Refuge

I’ve been mulling over this concept for a while. The dictionary defines refuge as, “a place of shelter, protection or safety.” That about covers it. As I thought through this word, and where it fits into my life, I determined that its value to us is two-fold. First of all, refuge is something we all need. We all need safe places where we can go to get away, or to be apart. Even taking a lunch in the midst of a pressured day can be a refuge. Many of us have specific places of refuge. They can be places of natural beauty like the beach, the mountains, or the woods. They can also be man-made like a church, a library, a favorite restaurant, or even a quite room. Certainly, there are places in your life where you can relax and let your guard down for a little while. These are places of refuge. Home can be a refuge from work and, while it’s unhealthy, for some people work can become a refuge from home. That is probably another whole topic. Where do you go when you need to be alone and think things through, or just to pray? I encourage you to think about the places of refuge in your own life so that you understand their value when you need them.

Relationship can also be a form of refuge. A person, or group of people, often provides meaningful refuge. This relational refuge is often found in a close friend or family situation. Some examples from my own life include my wife (who is amazing), my extended family, my circle of friends, and our church. I also consider a relationship with God in this way. Who do you flee to? Where do you run when you’re upset or need to talk? Where can you share your true feelings honestly? These are your refuges of relationship. They are built upon trust, respect, and time. It’s important to identify these relationships and nurture them because they can be rocks of support and safe harbors when you face the storms of life. A person who is rich in such relationships has a strong fortress as their refuge, but I’m always amazed how many people live without this great blessing of strength and encouragement.

This brings us to the final point. We’ve considered both places and people of refuge. The natural progression of such a discussion must lead to our role and obligation to be a refuge for others. We have the awesome opportunity of making our homes, our churches, and other locations, a refuge for others. The same rings true on the relational front. If we are to experience refuge from others, we must constantly consider how to be a refuge as well. We must be both safe and available. That means that we can’t be overly judgmental. It also means that we must face the world with open hearts. This leaves open the possibility our being hurt, but it’s the only way to welcome others in and provide the refuge they need. We’ve worked hard to make our home a place where others always feel welcome, where they would flee to in their times of need. There is a cost to this choice. It affects privacy, personal time, and finances, among other things. But we wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s a way of living that can sometimes prove inconvenient, and even painful. Yet the rewards far outweigh the costs. You will find below a little prayer I wrote on this subject. My question for you today is two-fold. Is your door open to others? Is your heart open to others? Is your life a refuge, the kind that you would hope for in your own time of need? I sincerely hope you may know the joy of both giving and receiving refuge in your own life. So see if the words below touch your own heart.

Refuge
May our home be a refuge?
A trusted place of care
May it be a blessing
To all who enter there
May our home be an oasis
Where the weary may find rest
And pause to drink their fill of peace
So they depart refreshed
May our home be a refuge
For all who enter here
For anyone God sends our way
Today, and through the years
By Frank Carpenter ©

The Voice of God

I was visiting an unfamiliar church a few months ago. It was a different denomination than I’m accustomed to, with different traditions and surroundings. Now, that could cause a person to be distracted or judgmental, but I approached that particular Sunday morning with an open mind and an open heart … and I was rewarded for it. Since I wasn’t as engaged in the liturgy of the service it actually offered a fresh perspective on Sunday mornings. The songs, the surroundings and the style of worship varied from what I usually respond to, but the message was essentially the same. And that got me thinking about how God communicates to each person, or groups of people, in unique ways because we all respond to different stimuli. That’s the amazing thing about God and His word. He speaks across language, cultural, and geographic barriers. In fact, God has reached out to the whole world through the course of history. This reminded me of the opening verses of Psalm 19: “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge. There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard. Their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world.” In fact, God is speaking to us all the time. He does so through the bible, the creation, through a thousand large and small things which point to an intelligent designer. Most people consider God’s word to be written monologue, a long and sometimes tedious monologue. However, God’s word is a symphony. It certainly and most importantly is His written and holy word in the form of the bible. But these words are accompanied by mountains, the ocean, the animals and trees, the feel of the wind and the fury of the weather. God speaks volumes through his love for us and the resulting love we show one another. He whispers through the miraculous intricacy of our own bodies and the artistic simplicity of a tiny flower. God makes Himself known through all five of our senses. I see and hear Him, or at least His creative reflection, everywhere I go.

Now, some of you will read these words and respond with, “yes, I get it.” Maybe you’ll become more aware of God’s presence throughout our lives. I hope so. However, you may not see God in anything I’ve written about here. In fact, you may not even believe there is a God. That is certainly your right, because you have a free will. Yet, I encourage you to look around for a few moments and tell me that life doesn’t smack of the miraculous. It seems impossible for me to think otherwise, but you be the judge. If you don’t agree with me just think back over these words from time to time and consider whether or not there is a God, and whether or not He is speaking to you in a unique way. That’s all I ask.

For those of you who do agree with me that there is a God, one who actively communicates and interacts with us, there is something else to consider. Another thought that came to me as I sat in that unfamiliar church a while back was that if we hear God’s voice what does it mean to us? What should we do about it? That reminded me of a verse in the middle of Psalm 95 that reads in part, “Today, if you hear God’s voice, do not harden your hearts …” I felt like God was encouraging me not only to listen, but to respond. We can go to church, read the bible, pray, sing, or whatever, but if doesn’t affect us-if we don’t actually change-what’s the point. We mustn’t “harden our hearts.” That’s huge. You see, God wants us to respond to His words with our hearts and our lives. He wants to change us, and use us to change the world.

So whether you’re at church, or work, or home definitely read God’s written word as much and whenever you can. But I also challenge to you open your eyes and ears to the rest of the symphony God is playing for you, the symphony He has been performing since the beginning of time. My hope and prayer is that you may hear God’s voice, His whole voice. And when you do, don’t harden your heart. Open your heart … and let the adventure begin.

The Voice of God
The almighty God of heaven
Speaks to us throughout each day
He is revealed through His inspired word
He communes with those who pray
He proclaims himself in creation
And the mighty works He has done
Through the wondrous miracles of old
And salvation through His Son
Awesome God booms in the thunder
And lightening that shakes the earth
He proclaimed His love in sacrifice
On the night of the Savior’s birth
He spoke through the prophets and patriarchs
Whose words bring the wisdom of old
Through the apostles and saints as well
Came the words more precious than gold
The God of all the creation
Shouts in the tempest and gale
In the roar of the mightiest creature
In the song of the least and the frail
Each one of us upon the earth
Hears the Lord of Hosts proclaim
His love, His power, and majesty
And the wonder of His name
The voice of the Lord is ringing
Throughout the earth and beyond
And we who hear must choose each day
Will we harden our hearts … or respond?
Frank Carpenter ©

Time Well Spent

Sometime last year we were on vacation with friends and we passed with striking distance of Uncle Norman’s house. It was one of my friend’s Uncle Norman and, on a whim; we all stopped to visit him together. As it turned out we had a lovely visit, toured the grounds, and heard lots of interesting stories from this venerable ninety-something old man. While many of us were meeting him for the first time, all of us appreciated the value of the visit to our friend and knew what it meant to our host. I spent some time alone there, wandering through the large, overgrown yard and ended up responding with the below poem. And I got to thinking how we all have Uncle Normans in our lives who would so appreciate a visit. In fact, for many of them such a visit would make their day … or maybe their entire year. Those folks also have many stories to share, often representing the best, or even final, link to large portions of our personal and family histories. Yet, so often we’re too busy to visit, even if they live nearby. We send Christmas cards, maybe even call once in a while, but we never visit as often as they would like. The older folks especially long for our company and for our companionship, but there is more to it. That cherished visit also validates them. It sends the message that they are still important, that their lives matter because their friends and relatives still care enough to spend time with them.

Now I’m realistic. I know there are really just two kinds of people in the world: the ones who visit and the ones sit around waiting for a visit. You know who you are. If you are in the visiting half of humanity I advise that you just embrace your fortunate position, rather than resent the people who are so anxious for you to come and see them. It’s not that much trouble and it just means so much. And whether it’s your grandma, your uncle, or your own kids, just go and visit. In the end, most of us are glad we made the effort to invest in people. I hardly ever catch myself wishing I’d spent more time at work or watching TV instead spending time with friends and family. Who is your Uncle Norman? Who have you been meaning to call or go see? Here’s what I have learned from experience time and again. It’s rarely the things I do which I regret later. It’s generally the things I didn’t get around to which cause me regret in the long run. Make the call … and make the world a better place. Whatever it may cost you in time or trouble, I can guarantee it will be a good investment. Time spent on people is always time well spent.

Time Well Spent
There are always people in our lives
Whom we know we need to see
But we get so busy sometimes
That we forget how much it means
We forget how lonely they are
And what joy a visit brings
When life has us distracted
By so many other things
Yet, those older people in our lives
Have so very much to share
If we will only take the time
To call, to visit, and to care
They have so many stories
Yet to tell, and hold the key
To the wisdom of our ancestors
And our family history
They remember all the relatives
That we may never know
Saw the war and the depression
And events of long ago
They can recount mistakes made
Those they wish they could forget
So that we make better choices
And avoid what we’d regret
When we pause to call or visit
All those folks who are alone
We turn attention from ourselves
To others we have known
And show the kind of love
That honors people in a way
We hope that younger folks
Will show to us someday
Though it seems an inconvenience
We’re always happy that we went
And we’re reminded that the time we
Take to love is time well spent
By Frank Carpenter ©

Beauty

I daresay that far too often we overlook the beauty which constantly surrounds us. There is so much of it in the simplest and most humble corners of our everyday lives. We always seem to want to find beauty in the large, dramatic scenes, like a sunrise or a sunset. However, there is unfathomable splendor to be discovered in the tiniest flower, the flight of a hummingbird, or the intricate veins of a leaf or butterfly wing. There is beauty in order, as well as randomness. It’s in the music of water, the swaying of trees, or the convolution of a patch of tangled ivy. Sometimes, in the early morning, the light plays through some beveled glass on our ceiling fan lights and creates a single, tiny rainbow on our living room floor. The clear glass of a bowl on our counter distorts the view through it just enough to fascinate me. There is beauty in the taste of a ripe peach and the patient rhythm of the second hand on a clock. We can find it anywhere.

These are merely a few examples from the corner of my home where I tarried as I wrote these humble words. How much more might we discover if we turn our enlightened eyes upon the larger world we move through each day. The real problem lies in how distracting our lives have become. We’ve become so preoccupied that we neglect to look … and have forgotten how to truly see. Yet, we dare not allow ourselves to become immune to the wonder which surrounds us. Every corner of our lives is literally brimming with neglected scenes of the most exquisite beauty. We have but to sit still for a moment, and simply open our eyes … and our hearts.

Perfect Moments

Below I recount an inspiring moment from my own recent personal life. I’m quite fond of the specific memory and the beauty that my “word painting” recalls. Upon reflection, however, there is also much to extrapolate from that experience and how it might apply to the other parts of our lives. As an example, even on that particular day I alone paused to observe the scene and fully immerse myself in it. The rest of my companions hiked on, perhaps missing many of the details of that little valley, along with the emotions they evoked. This perfect moment had an impact on me that I’m writing about a year later. The same often proves true in the other areas of our lives. We tend to rush past so much that life has to offer instead of pausing to actually be anywhere. I recently read a book entitled “Chasing Daylight” by Eugene O’Kelly. He was diagnosed with terminal cancer and spent his final months trying to live in the moment, while attempting to create “perfect moments” of closure with his friends and loved ones. It’s merely coincidental that my poem shares a title with this concept, which I read about a year later … if you believe in coincidence. Yet, the main idea comes shining through.

Anyway, the point I’m getting at is that we don’t have to be dying, or off in the mountains, in order to seek out and enjoy the perfect moments in our lives. They are all around us, but we have to slow down long enough to recognize and enjoy them. And that’s what we really want out of life, isn’t it? We long for perfect moments with our friends and spouses and children. We relish perfect moments in nature, in church, and even in our own living rooms. That’s the quality of life that means so much more than the quantity. When you return from vacation and people ask about it, you don’t tell them how many miles you drove or how many restaurants or hotel rooms you visited. No, you recount the highlights, the moments that made all those miles worth driving. Yet, in so many areas of our lives we measure their value by the odometer. In the end, though, how far rarely ends up being as important as how well.

And I leave you with that thought. Where do you need to pause in your own life to create perfect moments that you’ll remember a year from now … or ten years? You certainly don’t have to travel to the mountains. It might be as simple as pulling your car over to watch the sunset or pausing to look at the dew on a spider web. It might be playing catch or kicking a ball with the kids. It might be holding hands while you watch TV instead of sitting in separate chairs. Look for the perfect moments and grab onto them with both hands. If you do, I can definitely promise that you will never regret it.

Perfect Moments
The cool breeze which greets me
From the patch of nearby snow
Brings a kiss of fading winter
I’d forgotten long ago
Yet its final frozen vestiges
Still cling beneath the trees
By a pristine lake we hiked to
Where I paused to take my ease
Though it’s summer in the Wasatch
And June has nearly flown
The snowfields of this valley
Still seem to hold their own
The best of winter, spring and summer
Have converged here for a time
And the beauty each contributes
Brings a sense of the sublime
To this perfect day and moment
I have the privilege to know
So I thank God for quiet valleys
Lakes and stubborn fields of snow
By Frank Carpenter ©

Lukewarm

It’s an interesting phenomenon that often, even in the most important areas of our lives; we are willing to settle for far less than our best. If we were purchasing a new cell phone, a fashion item, or some other creature comfort we wouldn’t dream of shortchanging ourselves with an inferior product. At a restaurant, we would never accept and under or overcooked entrée. We spoil ourselves in so many ways. However, when it comes to spiritual, ethical or relational issues we’re often willing to compromise. In areas of faith, patience, charity and compassion we are quick to settle. Consequently, we shortchange God and those whom we are called to love on His behalf. Worse yet, we shortchange ourselves as well. This is all the more hypocritical if we profess to be devoted to God. In the third chapter of Revelations, Jesus indicates that He is most offended when we are lukewarm. He would rather see us all the way hot or cold, for or against Him, than merely living lives of tepid complacency. Yet, many of us live such lives, going through the motions and answering most of the questions correctly, but never throwing our whole hearts into life or devoting ourselves fully to God. This represents the lukewarm life our Savior so vehemently warns of. In that passage, His response is that He will “spit” the lukewarm people “out of His mouth.” I’m not even entirely sure what that means, but the eternal connotation is clearly undesirable.

The point is that we are called to a better life, one of faith and passion. Isn’t that what we really want after all? And yet, we so often find ourselves living lukewarm lives. The synonyms for the word lukewarm include: tepid, cool, unenthusiastic, halfhearted, unexcited and indifferent. In other words, adjectives we generally would prefer not have used to describe us. Although it sounds intriguing to live on the cutting edge, most of us stay planted firmly in the middle. We’re frankly more concerned with falling off of the edge than living out on it. So how do we live differently? We need to be open to change. We need to be willing to say yes. We need to face our dreams and our prayers with excitement and open minds.

I certainly concede that I’m speaking to myself here as much as anyone else. However, this might be easier for all of us if we were willing to embrace this kind of change in one another, if we were committed to encouraging it. Think about your own life today. Are you comfortable and complacent, or are you ready and willing? Do you believe that the story of your life is already written, or are you excited about the blank pages of your story that still remain to be written? Would God, or the other important people who share your journey, look at your life and call it hot, cold, or lukewarm? That is the question to ask. And I daresay that each of us already knows the answer in his or her heart. Let us strive together to make the answer to that question a resounding hot. We are called to lives of purpose and passion. That can be frightening, but it can also be amazing and rewarding. One thing is sure, however. Each of us knows that lukewarm will just never do.

Lukewarm
Oh, I keep the Ten Commandments
And my life looks good enough
To the people who observe me
But sometimes Jesus calls my bluff
By pointing out the little things
Unnoticed by all the rest
He shows me that the life I lead
Is just lukewarm, at best
I’ve avoided all the “big” sins
Gave my time and money too
Living cleaner than most other folks
Yet, it will never do
Because my God requires much more
Of me than I have shared
He knows how I’ve been holding back
And how little I have cared
I know there is a better life
Which God reserved for me
A life that makes each day worthwhile
And counts for eternity
It requires faith on my part
Courage and passion too
But it’s the life I’m called to lead
For lukewarm will never do
By Frank Carpenter ©

Beauty

Since I am definitely a proud new grandfather and currently visiting the newest addition to our family, it seems appropriate to offer another poem on my new favorite subject. Over the years, I have written a great deal about the beauty of nature and the wonders of creation. Well, this little one never ceases to amaze me with her funny faces, noises, and antics. Yes, I am biased and duly enamored. However, this little person really is a true wonder of creation to us. There is a beauty and innocence in her that seems to have eroded from the heart of cynical old men like me over the years. Now I find that my perspective on everything has been refreshed and renewed. And from that new perspective I offer the following poem, with a wish that you may look afresh upon the world as I now do.

Beauty
As I observe my granddaughter
Sleeping in a blanket warm
I know that I have now seen beauty
In its most perfect form
A beauty uncorrupted
By the wiles of this world
Unscathed by fashion’s fetters
Or harsh words from other girls
She is as God intended
At peace and innocent
No worries for the coming days
No hint of discontent
This cherub, only two weeks old
Swaddled in her blanket warm
Assures me I have now seen beauty
In its most perfect form
Frank Carpenter ©

Kalama Morning

We’re away in the state of Washington visiting our kids and first grandchild this week. As is my nature when I’m away, I rose early to walk and take in the new surroundings. We’ve been quite busy lately and work is always hard to escape from so I came fairly exhausted and distracted. Fortunately, I have a gift for being able to turn life off and just be away when I’m on vacation. My morning ritual of rising early to walk while I’m away is an important part of getting my brain on vacation. I take the liberty, therefore, of offering this description without much explanation because it speaks for itself. I hope and pray that you may find peace in the quiet corners of your own life today as well.

Kalama Morning
I rose this morning early
Just so glad to be away
From the world of work and pressures
That seems to fill each day
I stuck out afoot on my own
To enjoy the woods and town
And to revel in the solitude
Which of late I’ve scarcely found
I wandered quiet tree-lined roads
As gentle rain began to fall
Not enough to soak me through
But this is Washington after all
The weariness and worry
It has been my lot to bear
Seem to dissipate with every breath
Of northwest morning air
As I begin to hear the birds again
I pause to make a daisy chain
And thank God for quiet mornings
Simply walking in the rain
By Frank Carpenter ©

A New Beginning

When five small fingers grasp on big thumb
The cares of the world are overcome …

Well, a week ago on June 18th the most amazing thing happened. I became a grandfather. Yes, it’s true. Our family is both overjoyed and proud to welcome its newest member: Aubree May Carpenter. For anyone who relishes baby statistics, she was 7 pounds, 5 ounces, 21 inches long and had an Apgar score of 9 … oh, and she’s absolutely perfect. Am I bragging already? I don’t generally fill these pages with much personal news, but this event is naturally of the greatest consequence to my little tribe. Sure, babies are born every day, but this one is ours and, quite frankly, it changes everything. It’s not so much that I’m old enough to be a grandfather and very soon small people will begin calling my pops. Nor is it, from the strictly scientific standpoint, that I have successfully passed on my genetic material to another generation. My response is more like the response of Adam in Genesis 2. After God creates Eve from Adam’s rib, Adams responds with, “this is now bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh!” Little Aubree has a bit of us in her and, in every sense of the word, she has become our legacy.

She will also be the recipient of our legacy, whatever that may be. She has become the manifestation of the hope that our wisdom and values and faith may be passed on and find some meaning beyond us. Let’s face it, if all she were to receive as a legacy is my looks and my money she would find herself sadly shortchanged in life. Fortunately, a man’s true legacy is that of heart and of spirit. So I hope and pray that she may find them of value, for my life will have altogether more meaning if it turns out to have been meaningful to her. That is what legacy is all about. These very words have altogether more meaning because of her. And so do I.

Little Aubree May Carpenter, we welcome you to the world and thank you for the joy that you have brought into our lives already! I close today with a wish and a prayer for the newest member of our family, and one which perhaps all of us grownups may be wise to take to heart as well.

A Child’s Eyes
May you never grow too wise
To see things through a child’s eyes
May you always seek the truth
With the innocence of youth
May you learn to love each man
As freely as a child can
May you daily kneel and pray
And with a child’s heart … obey.
By Pops

The Romance of the Century

I was waiting in line at the grocery store this afternoon. Like most people, I filled that idle time looking over the photos and the headlines on the covers of the various magazines displayed there. Usually I find nothing of interest in the intellectual wasteland of those magazines, but one in particular cover caught my eye today. The new issue of Vanity Fair had a classic photograph of Elizabeth Taylor in her prime with the bold face headline, “Liz Taylor and Richard Burton, the Romance of the Century.” It all sounds very glamorous and I’m certain that a lot of folks would concur. However, especially today, I must take issue therewith. I’ve grown weary of Hollywood romance. I’m tired of all the hype, the glitz, the frenzy of interest and speculation, and often the character of those in the limelight who rarely live up to the images they project. Celebrity romance promises so much and generally delivers very little. It’s a case of people no better than you or I making below average choices in public, flitting in and out of rehab, and practically getting worshiped for it. And if they adopt a child from Africa once in a while they achieve near sainthood. Don’t get me wrong, I love kids from Africa. However, these celebrity couples are rarely more worthy of being our role models than anyone else.

Now let’s return to Liz and Richard and the supposed romance of the century. Seriously? Elizabeth Taylor was married eight times to seven different men. She was married to Richard two different times, which hardly qualifies them for that title. After all, they failed twice. I’m sorry, but Liz wouldn’t know the romance of the century if it hit her on the head. They might have shared the infatuation of the century or the divorce (s) of the century, or the public affair of the century, but the title of romance of the century certainly must belong to someone who didn’t fail at it eight times.

I suppose it boils down to a world view and our definition of love. The problem is that Hollywood’s other great contribution to society is that it has completely corrupted the meaning of the word love. We’ve been programmed to believe that love, true love, is tumultuous and tragic, that it comes and goes like flu season, and the whole story can be told in two hours. (at $10 a ticket) I cannot, I will not, believe that. True love isn’t a fickle feeling that we can fall in and out of over and over again. Genuine love is a way of life that cherishes and honors another person and builds over the course of years. If you’re really looking for the romance of the century, then start crashing fiftieth anniversary parties. That’s where you’ll find it. That’s where you’ll discover the actual experts on love. Those are the people who took their wedding vows to heart and proved out their love for better or for worse.

I’ve been married for nearly twenty-nine years to just about the most wonderful person in the world. And you know what? Our love and our life just keep getting better and I thank God for them every day. Now, I don’t think we deserve the romance of the century title because it belongs to a lot of amazing couples who have been together for twice as long as us. However, I can honestly say that during the two centuries we have had the pleasure of being a part of, I’ve felt we like were at least contenders in each one. You can’t really ask for more than that.

Today, I dedicate this poem to all those folks who have lived and loved together for a lifetime. You are the definition of the word love and the personification of romance. Liz and Richard, for all their glamour and their undeserved title from Vanity Fair, will never hold a candle to you.

Till Death Do Us Part
We seem to have forgotten
How much wedding vows mean today
So when life grows too difficult
Folks just seem to walk away
They forget about their promise
To stand through sickness and health
To stay when things were better or worse
Through poverty and through wealth
We cast aside the promises
We made back at the start
To the ultimate commitment
When we vowed, ATill death do us part@
A vow devoid of options
Which, in this world of lies
Stands as the measure of commitment
Unmarred by compromise
Those vows don=t mention happiness
Nor compatibility
Clearly, because they become subjective
When folks begin to disagree
In the end, there is no greater tribute
To what marriage is all about
Than those who stay Atill death do us part@
Who live those wedding vows out
So when your commitment is waning
And you feel love slipping away
Remember the vow you made before God
And your loved ones that long ago day
Find a way to rekindle the fires
Which once burned so bright in your heart
And stand by your promise, whatever the cost
Until death do us part
By Frank Carpenter ©

The Optimistic Spider

On the lighter side, for a change, I would like to share the poem below, which is based upon a weekly ritual that actually occurs regularly in the side yard behind our garage. While this is mostly a humorous story, it also highlights some important virtues. My spider has obviously been enhanced through the literary tool of personification. Still, I never cease to be amazed by her optimism and persistence. It is possible, of course, that she’s merely trying to earn a humble living capturing flies, and that I’m some kind of giant arachnid home wrecker who consistently destroys her handiwork while jeopardizing her livelihood. Anyway, she labors on in spite of the havoc I wreak. Call it instinct, or nature, creation, or even plain old undaunted tenacity. Either way, she never gives up and her efforts are truly commendable. It may just be me, but since I’ve been such a nuisance to her I’d like give her as much credit as possible for her valiant efforts. Just a spider? Maybe. But let her serve as a reminder to all of us to dream big, work hard, and never give up.

The Optimistic Spider
Down the side yard of our house
Where humans rarely stray
There lives an optimistic spider
Who labors every day
Cunningly, she spins her web
From the bushes to the wall
And bides her time ‘till Wednesday night
When she knows that I shall call
For that is when the trash cans
Must be carried out again
And like a hunter on a game trail
She lays in wait for men
Then, in the dark of Wednesday
As I hurry through my chore
I plunge headlong through her web
Just like a hundred times before
Of course, I’ve forgotten once again
That she’ll be waiting there
And I mutter exclamations
Pulling web from face and hair
Yet, it’s a minor inconvenience
Even when I am surprised
And I continue with my mission
As she again laments her prize
But by Thursday she is back at work
Regardless of my flight
Undaunted and preparing
For the trash next Wednesday night
And I have to hand it to her
For her stalwart tenacity
Because her faith and commitment
Are a testament to me
And while to us she’s just a spider
She see’s it quite a different way
For I’m her nemesis, her King Kong
And the one who got away
By Frank Carpenter ©

USNA Commissioning Week

This week we have been at the United States Naval Academy for their commissioning week and graduation in Annapolis, Maryland. It’s been a full week of patriotic activities, culminating in a performance by the Blue Angels and yesterday’s commencement ceremony. The Academy is steeped in rich history and tradition. Not to be outdone, the city of Maryland is a historical treasure as well. It was even our nation’s capital at one time. We have come here to honor two young men whom we have known since they were just tikes, and each of them is almost like a son to us. Brandon McGaha was sworn in as a Marine Corps Second Lieutenant yesterday, and Jon Weissberg was commissioned as a Navy Ensign. Each of them is headed to flight school and they will commence careers in their respective services this summer. We are extremely proud of these two young men and all of their accomplishments, and below I have taken to liberty of posting a poem written in their honor.

This week has also served as a reminder of how important our military is to the strength and influence of our nation, and how much I respect all those men and women in uniform who have sworn to uphold and protect our way of life and the principles upon which it is founded. Well done, USNA Class of 2010!

Where Duty Calls
Four years ago we sent you off
Mere boys as we recall
Unto this place where men are made
Where they hear duty’s call
Long has been your journey
And difficult your way
So we have come to celebrate
Your accomplishments today
You have received an education
As fine as any men attain
Yet, so much more has happened here
And we count it all as gain
You have been endowed with manly skills
The ancient art of war
You have honed your minds and bodies
Learned to trust and to endure
You have learned to lead, and follow
Each in measure as required
You have learned to serve your country
Been challenged and inspired
So much more has happened here
Beyond your education
And we have come to honor you
And offer heartfelt approbation
Because you’ve become the future
Of our nation’s sovereignty
The instruments of freedom
The guardians of liberty
We entrust to you, our sons
The safety of this land
And the principles it represents
We place in your worthy hands
You are our best and brightest
Our heroes and our friends
And we could not be prouder of you
As this your next journey begins
So serve us well, young warriors
Whatever may befall
God speed and go forth boldly
Wherever duty calls
By Frank Carpenter ©

Courage

As a rule, I don’t think I have ever discovered any real wisdom in a fortune cookie before. However, earlier this week at lunch I opened one and read something which seemed quite profound. The message on the little paper read, “Courage is a virtue, but it is also the catalyst that proves all the other virtues when they are needed most.” A simple thought, but it’s one which certainly warrants further consideration. Whatever our other virtues may be the test of their worth, and their actual manifestation within us, always comes down to how we live them out in the pressure cooker of real life. Action is the litmus test of virtue. Are we loyal, truthful, pure, patient, humble, faithful or selfish? We can say or think whatever we like. Over time, however, life has a way of reducing us to the lowest common denominator of our character as we try to live out our values in the real world. Will we stand by a friend or tell the whole truth when we realize how much the consequences can hurt us? Are we patient on the freeway even when we’re late, and in a hurry? Can we remain pure and upright when serious temptation comes our way? Real virtues are always tested and proven in the refining fires of family problems, peer pressure, work performance, social insecurities, illness, financial difficulties, addictive tendencies and the like. That is when courage comes into play. As the cookie said, courage assists all of the other virtues. And we need real courage, in varying degrees, to pick our way through the mine field of choices and responses that every day presents us with.

Usually we think of courage in terms of the “big” things like a fireman rushing into burning building to save someone or a soldier advancing under enemy fire. Those examples are absolutely courageous, even heroic, and they happen every day in real life … just not to most of us. Most of us live quiet little lives that, at first glance, don’t seem to require much courage. I have certainly never had the opportunity to exhibit heroic courage in such situations as the aforementioned. However, we all face opportunities each day that require courage to live out our virtues. And if we aren’t brave enough to make those choices it slowly erodes our virtuous character. So here’s my wish for you today to find the courage to make all the choices that come your way.

Coloring Eggs

Today, dear friends, a look at the traditional Easter holiday from a different perspective. A while back a fellow employee asked me, coincidentally around Easter, how to deal with some racial issues within her family. This is what I came up with. I hope you enjoy it and pass it on to others who might be in need of a fresh perspective.

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 ©

Living

We often are so preoccupied with the details of life that we can actually miss living altogether. To breathe, to move, to make noise-any animal can do this. We humans can feel and see, and think and dream, and live so far beyond the miniscule distractions of existence. Yet, we wallow in them, accomplish them, revere them … and are bound by them.

We have the choice each day and each moment to truly live, to reach within ourselves and not only find meaning, but make meaning in life. Even more importantly, we have the ability and privilege to help make life more beautiful and meaningful for others. It isn’t simply enough to earn and own and be respected. The measure of my life lies not only in how well I lived it, but how well I helped others to live theirs. If I should fail at everything but living, that would certainly be enough. Let us not waste a moment.

To Be a Blessing

While speaking to a friend earlier this week I was reminded of an important concept that really should be a focal point of our daily lives: being a blessing. So I began thinking about how I could be a blessing to other people. I’m hoping that I already am most of the time, but it hasn’t generally been a specific goal. At its root, this simply boils down to loving other people more than myself, proactively and with their best interest at heart. Isn’t that what life is all about, after all? As I consider the relationships we maintain within our different spheres of influence it becomes all together clear who I would like to be, and how I would like to be thought of by others. Whether at home or in the work place, with friends or family, coworkers or strangers, I desire to be a person who blesses others with my life. It makes all the sense in the world. Would you like to be a good husband or wife, a good friend or boss? Be a blessing. Do you want to be remembered fondly by your children and grandchildren? Be a blessing. Do you desire to be thought well of by your neighbors, coworkers or friends? Be a blessing. Would you like a lasting legacy that reaches beyond your own temporal life here? Be a blessing. Would you like to follow the bible’s commandments to honor God and love others? Be a blessing.

But what does that mean? How can we be a blessing to other people? It just requires considering what others people need and what would make them happy, then acting upon it. There are tangible blessings, which have to do with sharing, generosity and meeting tangible and physical needs. There are relational blessings, where we are conscious of the emotional needs of others and strive to fulfill them. There small and simple blessings, and ones with higher callings and purposes. Many are both. For instance, when I treat my wife and children well, complimenting, encouraging and appreciating them, I fulfill their short-term need to be loved. However, those same actions also create lasting legacy by setting the tone of my household, teaching others the language of love and building self esteem. Furthermore, doing so opens lines of communication. This is because people want to be blessed and treated well and when I do so it causes them to be open to me, adding more meaning to my words on a variety of subjects. Conversely, if I constantly deride people or mock them with satire they eventually build an emotional barrier between us which prevents me from hurting them … or having any positive impact upon them either. We all have people in our lives who are mean or tactless and over time we shut them off emotionally as a defense mechanism. Many parents even do this with their children, essentially abdicating the amazing God-given opportunity to be a blessing or have a meaningful emotional legacy. Rather, they create a legacy of pain and disappointment that children often carry with them for the rest of their lives. Yet, so many folks just can’t help making the negative and judgmental comments that hurt folks and drive them away. But let us dwell upon the positive for the sake of this discussion.

Most of us want to be people whom others desire to be with. We want to be the beloved spouse or parent, or the favorite aunt or uncle, or the friend so often thought of. That all begins with making a conscious effort to bless others with our lives. When we do so, it also turns out to be the gift that keeps on giving because when we encourage others it lifts them up and has an impact upon their lives. And to have played that part in the lives of others is a truly worthwhile legacy indeed. I fall far short of this lofty goal on a regular basis. I speak to quickly and thoughtlessly. I’m judgmental, and regularly fall into sarcasm that is far from my intended relational goals. However, I’m trying. I’m thinking about it. I’m praying about it. I’m practicing it. And that’s the point, really. Too many people simply imply, “I’m just not like that so take me as I am.” Those are the people who complain that they have no friends or that their grandkids never come and visit them. That’s not what I want for my life so I’m working hard to aim it in the other direction with deliberate acts of kindness and encouragement, and generosity. That’s what it means to be a blessing, and essentially what it means to love people as well. Just imagine what the world would be like if more of us were making such an effort. So start right now. Turn to the person next to you and compliment them. Pick up the phone and call you mom or friend or brother. Write a note, an email, or a text. Love people with whatever abilities God has given you and you will be a blessing. Oh, and here’s the best part … you will almost certainly be blessed back as well.

To Be a Blessing

There’s a lot of things to wish for
So much to aspire to

We all have lists of what we’d like

To accomplish before we’re through

Though I could fill up pages

With deeds as yet undone

In the end I think that my list

Could boil down to only one

I just want to be a blessing

To the people in my life

A husband and a father who

Always loves his kids and wife

A friend who can be counted on

A brother and a son

Who always gives his very best

Each day, to everyone

A man who serves his neighbors

And does his job in such a way

That he makes a difference in the lives

Of those he touches every day

I know it sounds a little simple

When there’s so much in life to do

It’s not the kind of mission statement

That we’ve grown accustomed to

But it would be enough for me

Though nothing else gets done

If I can simply be a blessing

Each day … to everyone

By Frank Carpenter ©

Be at Peace

Far too often, life seems to get away from us. We get so busy that we lose track of ourselves among all the other selves who surround us. We become part of the herd of humanity, swept along by the currents of activity and responsibility until it seems that we only exist as part of the larger crowd which constitutes our sphere of interaction. We are also bombarded by noise and various other stimuli which demand our attention until our conscious thought reverberates, as it were, only with the external input we receive. Some people are able to process all of this activity and continue to maintain their equilibrium. Others, like me, require space and time to debrief ourselves from the ubiquitous din of suburban living. I definitely have trouble finding peace when there is so much making noise around me.

I also feel that God whispers to us through the quiet moments. When we allow our lives to fill up with external distractions they drown out God … and we were built to hear Him. We were also built for rest, and many of us ignore that part of our design as well. However, when I get outdoors or get away everything seems to come back into alignment. Peace, quiet, and especially nature calm my heart and help to retune my spirit. I often don’t remember this until after I have gotten away, but it would be so much healthier if I would seek out the peace I require without waiting for my busy life to wear me down. My hope and prayer for you today is that you may discover whatever quiet place or time in your own life that you need to find peace.

Be At Peace
Down by the quiet waters
With life safely at my back
I wander paths of solitude
In search of the one thing I lack
It was peace which had eluded me
Whatever blessings I had known
And such was heavy on my heart
As I wandered there alone
When suddenly, I came up short
As if I’d struck a wall
Having heard an unfamiliar sound
The sound of nothing at all
Something deep within me trembled
Spreading from my trunk to limbs
As the silence ebbed within me
It was then that I heard Him
The still, small voice which whispered
Like silent thunder to my heart
Pouring over me as warm cascades
And gently soaking every part
For once, the voices of the many
Were drowned out by the only One
And He whispered, in that moment
Be at peace, at last, my son
By Frank Carpenter ©

Graduation Season

Well, once again it’s the season for graduations. Please bear with me as I venture into the more personal realm for moment since this subject is currently so dear to our own family. My daughter, and technically our baby, graduated from college yesterday. That is quite an event and, this being my venue, it seemed only appropriate to dedicate a chapter to her. Our society has many conceptions of the moment when a young person becomes an adult. It may be 13 years old, 16 or 18 or 21 … all depending on what values and life stages you cherish. However, it cannot be denied that the college years offer an important rite of passage into adulthood and the age of final responsibility. What better time, then, to pause and honor a young person for their academic accomplishments and to help launch them into the next chapter of their lives. Certainly it may come as no surprise to my readers that in my own family such an occasion must generally be commemorated with a poem. I hope that even if you don’t know me you may be able to appreciate these sentiments. Perhaps, others may even be able to use these same words to honor someone in their own lives. But for now, I simply need to take this opportunity and say: Cassandra, I am so proud of you and what you have accomplished. These simple words are my testament to you and to how you have touched all of our lives for the better. Congratulations on your big day and we can’t wait to see what the future holds for you. Love always, Dad.

Between the Future and the Past

Dearest daughter, this is quite an occasion

the culmination of twenty-one years

Of hoping and dreaming and planning and praying

of hard work, laughter and tears

This has been the goal and the purpose

of all of your education to date

The moment you tried to focus upon

through all those nights you studied so late

Who could have known on that first day of school

all those seventeen long years ago

When you walked into Eastbluff for kindergarten

that this is how far you would go

From elementary school at Lincoln

and your six years at CDM

From you’re A B C’s to chemistry

this is where you were headed back then

Every chapter of the life you have lived

each careful step along the way

Has helped to shape the young woman you are

and the life you embark upon today

And as you stand at this juncture

on the brink between future and past

You have so many memories to cherish

from your first day of school to the last

Those memories mostly are people

lives you have touched and who’ve touched yours

Whose voices and faces will live in your heart

long after you sail from these shores

Family, instructors and classmates

roommates and sisters and friends

Many you hope that you’ll never forget

to be cherished from now till the end

All of these people, indeed all of us

who have shared this journey of yours

Are so proud of what you’ve accomplished

and how God has opened the doors

To a future you always have dreamed of

which now lies but one step away

Through this gate of knowledge you’ve opened

and shall venture beyond from today

Cassandra, we are so proud of you

of who you are and all you have done

Of how you’ve tempered responsibility

with a joyful heart and unbridled fun

We respect the choices that you have made

the way you’ve matured and grown

The affect you have had upon others

and the faith you have made your own

It’s unlikely that any parents

could feel more pride than we

Or know more joy on such an occasion

in the blessing a daughter can be

You are all that we could have hoped for

as we prayed so diligently

Through this score of years on your behalf

as we strove upon bended knees

We thank God for your beauty and wisdom

for your virtuous loving heart

For your awesome heart of compassion

for the light you have been from the start

Cassie, this is your day and your moment

and the reason we’re all gathered here

Is to honor you on your graduation

accomplished in only four years

Congratulations, Miss Cassandra

and all our best wishes to you

May God’s blessing be ever upon you

And may you succeed in whatever you do

By Frank Carpenter ©

Mine

We live in what is generally a world of selfishness and entitlement. This leads us to surround ourselves with creature comforts and items of value which we hope will offer security for the future. We work hard and measure our success, and that of others, in terms of external trappings and material lifestyle. Now here’s where it gets a little uncomfortable. In the long run, those external trappings turn out to be just that … external trappings. They can’t actually make us happier, or help us to live longer, or prevent divorce, or keep our kids from imploding and ruining their lives. In fact, they may even have the opposite effect. Furthermore, I believe that there’s really a God and an afterlife and that this life we’re living now may just be dress rehearsal for something far better. Let’s assume for a moment that I’m right. If that’s the case, then all our possessions are essentially just props on the stage of life. However expensive or opulent, the “stuff” we so habitually surround ourselves with can be considered as so much hotel furniture. Sometimes it can seem quite nice, but the fact remains that we’ll eventually check out and leave it all behind. That certainly puts things in perspective. The more we collect and the tighter we cling to it, the more it affects us and the more it devalues other things in our lives. People are what matters. Heaven is what matters. Stuff … not so much. I’m reminded of the closing scene in a dozen B movies where the bad guy invariably gets dragged over the cliff, out of the plane, or to the bottom of ocean by the weight of the treasure he has strove to possess through the entire plot. Life is like that. The treasure, and often the pursuit thereof, can drag us into the depths and cause us to forsake so many more valuable things in our lives.
In the book of 1 Timothy, the apostle Paul wrote, “For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil.” He didn’t say that money was evil, as it is so often misquoted, but only that the love of money can have a negative effect upon us, or be the root thereof. I’m guessing that concept probably applies to all the material things in our lives. Prosperity can be a gift from God, but it may just be meant as a tool to serve Him through serving others. Once it ceases to be a tool and becomes a goal in and of itself, then we have probably deviated from its intended purpose. All of us need to ask ourselves how important our stuff is and who it really belongs to. After all it’s not really ours, but God’s, and I daresay it’s merely on loan for us to steward until such time as we are called to account for it. Once I begin to think of my wealth and possessions as mine I have robbed them of their potentially eternal purpose. At the same time I have wrested them from God’s kingdom and vainly attempted to place them into my own. Then, once I consider myself as an owner rather than a steward, I begin make an endless series of choices that tend to serve me, as the owner, instead of God. Such is the proverbial slippery slope of living in a material world. So this is a reminder to all of us, including my very imperfect self, to try and approach our lives with an eye towards God’s economy so that we can keep Him on the throne He so deserves. For once we can bring ourselves to say “His” instead of “mine,” we have taken an important step towards participation in the kingdom of God. Forever is such a long time that it just makes good sense to invest in it.

Mine
I hold the title to my car, each paycheck bears my name
As does the deed upon our house, you probably feel the same
We all have stuff we call our own, purchased with the funds we earn
But God has shown me lately, that I still have a lot to learn
For I’ve realized that all these things, I clutch so selfishly
Are really not my own at all, they belong to God, not me
Furthermore, they come from Him, these things I thought were mine
He is the source of every blessing, of our talents, wealth and time
And when we clutch them to ourselves, and hoard our precious things
They cease to serve their purpose, or offer blessings they could bring
For everything God sends our way, has purposes divine
So when we squander them for comfort, or waste our precious time
We remove them from the will of God, to pile on a garbage heap
When it could have served the Lord, and help His commandments keep
That which we posses in life, is clearly not our own
But on loan to us for service, to lay before the Master’s throne
Every time we count a blessing, on the debit side, you see
We must also post a credit, as a liability
To share the talents, time and treasure, we have abundantly received
For the greater purpose of the Lord, on whom we have believed
It breaks my heart to transfer title, on all that I suppose was mine
But I hear my Master calling, so I concede and so consign
All the precious stuff I’ve coveted, and worked so hard to own
I lay now upon the altar, as a pledge to God alone
For I know that where my treasure is, there my heart shall also be
And where better to invest it, than in what lasts eternally
By Frank Carpenter ©

Reflections on Easter Week

Well, if you’re into religious holidays, this is certainly a red letter week. We had Palm Sunday last weekend. St. Patrick’s Day was on Monday. Today is Holy Thursday, followed by Good Friday and Easter. And, of course, we have April Fools Day just around the corner. 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’s 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 (the Last Supper), 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 would be 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, and just prior to His betrayal, when Jesus 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 us personally. Easter is a time to celebrate God’s victory over death through the resurrection, but the foundation of that victory is His great mercy and the sacrifice of His only Son on behalf of an undeserving world. If you have further interest, I have pasted below a partial list of prophesies fulfilled by Jesus during the final week of His life. Have a happy Easter and 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 ©

Partial list of Prophesies Fulfilled During the Final Week of Jesus’ Life:
Triumphal entry in Jerusalem on a donkey Zechariah 9:9, Mark 11:7–8, John 12:13–15
Betrayed by a friend Psalm 41:9, Mark 14:10, 43–45
Betrayed for 30 pieces of silver Zechariah 11:12, Matthew 26:15
Betrayal money returned for a potter’s field Zechariah 11:13, Matthew 27:3–10
Accused by false witnesses Psalm 27:12, Matthew 26:60–61, Mark 14:57
Offers no defense Isaiah 53:7, Matthew 26:62–63, Matthew 27:12–14
Struck and spat upon Isaiah 50:6, Matthew 26:67, Mark 14:65, John 19:1–3
Hated without reason Psalm 109:3–5, John 15:24–25
Soldiers divide His garments and gamble for His clothing Psalm 22:18, Matthew 27:35
Pierced through hands and feet Zechariah 12:10, Luke 23:33, John 20:27
Executed with malefactors Isaiah 53:12, Mark 15:27–28
Agonized in thirst Psalm 22:15, John 19:28
Given gall and vinegar Psalm 69:21, Matthew 27:34, 48, John 19:29
No bones broken Psalm 34:20, John 19:32–36
His side pierced Zechariah 12:10b, John 19:34
Buried with the rich Isaiah 53:9, Matthew 27:57–60
Deserted by His followers Zechariah 13:7, Mark 14:27,Matthew 26:56
Resurrection Hosea 6:2, Psalm 16:10, Psalm 49:15, Luke 24:6–7
Ascension to Heaven Psalm 68:18, Luke 24:50–51, Acts 1:11, Ephesians 4:7–10

St. Patrick's Day

Well, as we all know, today is St Patrick’s Day. Now I’m not Irish, but if you are, or if you are interested, St Patrick is considered the patron saint of Ireland, meaning that he was essentially a missionary of the Christian faith to that land. For your enlightenment, I have pasted the whole story of St Patrick and the origins of this holiday at the bottom of today’s posting. My question today is this: If you are a believer, what are you the patron saint of? How are you changing your little corner of the world? I think we’re called to be the St Patrick of wherever we are. You can be the patron saint of your family, your school, your work, your neighborhood, an athletic team, a car pool, whatever. It’s unlikely you’ll get your own holiday here on earth, but in the gospel of Luke (chapter 14) he records that, “I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.” That sounds like enough of a holiday to me. Wear green clothes and drink green beer if you must, but let this day always remind you that you might very well be the patron saint of your own little sphere of influence. That is a lofty calling indeed, yet one altogether worth rising to the occasion of. My hope and prayer for you today is that you’ll be able to look back at your life next week, or next year, and see how you may have affected those around you for the better. For whether you like it or not, you are having an impact on the world around you every day. Make that impact count. And while you’re at it, have a happy St. Patrick’s Day!

Origins of St Patrick’s Day
Just like many other holidays in the United States, St Patrick's Day has its origins in ancient times. A young boy named Patrick lived in the British Isles, a land that had been invaded and conquered first by the Romans and then by Germanic tribes. Patrick was captured and taken as a slave from the British Isles to what is now Ireland. He lived there for several years herding sheep. He was a religious boy and he prayed that he would someday return to his homeland. Legend has it that one night while he was praying, a voice told him to escape from the farm, and find a ship that was waiting for him two hundred miles away. Patrick got to the ship, sailed to Europe, and disembarked in what is now probably France. He led several of the ship's crew through a dangerous forest, praying all the time. Neither Patrick nor any member of his crew was captured. When some of the men were about to die of starvation, wild animals appeared for them to eat. Events such as these appeared to be miracles and gave rise to later legends surrounding Patrick. At home, Patrick felt that he was called by God to perform an important mission. He believed it was his duty to go back to Ireland and convert the Celtic people to the Christian religion. Patrick arrived in Ireland and became a missionary, traveling from village to village and talking about his faith. Once, several members of a tribe approached Patrick and told him that they found it difficult to understand and believe in the Holy Trinity. Patrick thought a moment, then stooped down and picked one of the plentiful shamrocks growing wild around Ireland. "Here are three leaves," he said, "yet it is one plant. Imagine the Father, Son and the Holy Spirit as each of these leaves. Here they are, yet they are one plant." The tribesmen understood, because Patrick had used a familiar object to explain. From that time on, the shamrock has been a revered symbol of Ireland. Stories of Saint Patrick, for by then he was a saint, reached far and wide. His most famous feat is forcing the snakes out of the entire country of Ireland. Even though there are many different stories about how he accomplished such a task, it is probably not true. St Patrick died on March 17 and the Irish people set aside the day to mourn. He became the patron saint of Ireland. Mourning turned to commemorating him and celebrating his life. Americans have inherited this custom. On St Patrick's Day in the United States, millions of people celebrate whether they are Irish or not!
From: http://inventors.about.com/library/inventors/blstpatricksday2.htm

His Only Son

Well, we’re right in the midst of that season where our time, money and energies seem to be consumed by everything but the true meaning of Christmas. So I take the liberty of offering the following poem, which is actually a rather true story about one late night in my own parenting past. It was one of those amazing moments when what you know and what you feel suddenly collide with a staggering eternal truth. My prayer for you this season is that you may have a similar experience and that, if only for a moment, all the glitter and commercialism will fade away and the true wonder of that first Christmas comes shining through for you. That’s the moment when all the presents and parties and trees suddenly cease to matter and you come face to face with the Jesus whom God sent to us on that first Christmas day. Merry Christmas to all!

“For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life.” John 3:16

His Only Son
It was Christmas Eve around midnight
the presents were under the tree
The stockings were stuffed, but
somehow it just didn't feel like Christmas to me
We had read the Christmas story together
before the kids went to bed
But all night I had felt kind of empty
somewhere in my heart or my head
The magic of Christmas was missing
it had faded for me through the years
As tradition became repetition
Until I no longer held Christmas dear
Instead it seemed more of a bother
and an expensive bother at that
Nothing more than an inconvenience
more mess, more bills, more fat
It was late, far too late, I imagined
and the end of a very long day
But I figured I better look in on the kids
before I hit the hay
In my son's room I had a strange feeling
as if something was left out of place
Then I noticed the moon light streaming in
and how it lit up his young face
I thought to myself, "sure, it's Christmas,
there must be sugar plums dancing in there"
I gave him a kiss as I reached down
to brush back a wisp of his hair
Then I knew, in an instant, I saw it
what really happened on Christmas day
As my heart raced back to another child
long ago and far away
To a boy who was sleeping, as mine did
on that very first Christmas night
I saw his peaceful face awash
in the very same moonlight
Then I realized, finally, what God did
and the depth of the terrible price
God paid when He offered His only Son
for us all as a sacrifice
Of course, now I saw it so clearly
in the light of my love for my son
My own flesh and blood, whom I certainly
never would give up for anyone
But that's just what God did with Jesus
he sent Him to suffer and die
God sent Him because of His love for me
as I saw it I started to cry
And me, I was tired of Christmas
but I just didn't know what it meant
I had gotten too busy to notice the Savior
I knew that God had sent
I was filled with the joy and wonder
which eluded me all of these years
Now it was there, I could feel it
as it came flooding in through the tears
There, alone on my knees, in the darkness
I finally understood
That on Christmas God gave the greatest
gift of love that anyone could
By Frank Carpenter ©