A very long time ago I used to subscribe to an obscure newsletter called Dads Only that was filled with parenting advice. Once I came across a little verse in that publication which has stayed with me all through the years: “Could I fail him? Could I let him down, this youth, in a world of trouble and sham? God, grant me the strength of body and mind, to be the man he thinks I am.” My kids were small when I first read those words, but I’ve tried to be true to the spirit of that little prayer over the last couple of decades. Though it’s written for and by a man I hold that it applies to all parents. The fact is that, at any age, we are such an important part of our children’s lives and they look to us for validation, guidance, and example. It’s a lofty calling, but we really do need to be who our children think we are … and who they need us to be. Furthermore, this remains important throughout our lives. When our children are small we may be their whole world. During their formative years they still need us to live up to their expectations, and as they move toward and through adulthood we need to continue showing them the path to follow. I know it sounds like a tall order, but that’s what we sign up for when we choose to be parents. And even if we become parents by accident it’s a commitment that we should have considered in advance.
Our lives are the window that our children, of any age, view the world through. The sarcastic saying, “do what I say and not what I do” is completely ludicrous. Our children will emulate us throughout our entire lives. They have that right to do so. As parents then, we have an obligation to live in a manner that we will be comfortable with our children emulating. If we don’t want our kids to smoke, drink, swear or whatever then we ought not. If we don’t want them to cheat, act violently or get divorced then we must not. If our desire is for them to be kind, selfless or faithful then we must be. In a very real way, we are the mold that continues to shape their lives long after our genetic contribution. The same holds true when they have grown up and moved out on their own. This is our calling as parents. Are you up for the challenge? You have to be, because if you have kids of any age they are watching you right now and, more than likely, you are their role model.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Sunday, March 20, 2011
What's in a Name?
A recent conversation with a friend took an unexpected turn and we ended up discussing the names we have for ourselves, and the names others have for us. I’m not referring to the actual names on our birth certificates so much as the names we collect in life that are descriptors or identifiers. Take a moment to recall what you may have been called by others in your life recently, or how you may have referred to those around you. I can identify many instances where I have labeled people in my life, some edifying, but others clearly deleterious and demeaning.
Just for sport, let’s take a look at some super heroes as overt examples of how we relate to names. First of all we have Superman, Wonder Woman and Captain Marvel. These names indicate strengths or character.
Then there others with names that describe specifics about their identity or physical attributes, like: Aqua Man, Spider Man, Iron Man, Batman, Batgirl, Ice Man, and so on. This might seem silly, but it illustrates how names identify us in a way that nearly all of us are familiar with. Might point is that the names we gather, as well as those we cast upon others, say something important about us. Now I’m going to move on, but if for some reason you find this paragraph interesting you can go to www.superheronames.net to look up your favorites or try out the Super Hero Name Generator.
It is important what we call others because labeling can have a powerful influence in people’s lives. I recently corrected a father who was jokingly calling his daughter “booger” as a silly pet name. What if such a name, even offered in jest, stuck with someone? My suggestion was to call a little girl princess, sunshine, or beautiful in order to glean any emotional benefit those names might offer. However, I am clearly a re-namer and have referred to each of my children with dozens of silly names through the years, though I’ve generally tried to keep them positive. We all seem to recall cases where parents have called their children stupid, lazy, worthless, ugly, fat, loser, and so forth, only to have those labels stick, at least emotionally, and affect those children into adulthood. Furthermore, negative labeling usually refers to our worst traits, rather than ones that it would be more fruitful to accentuate. And remember that even if we label people behind their backs those names can stick and catch up with them eventually. Even a mature adult, when confronted with such labels as those listed above, can start to take them to heart. Those are the kind of seemingly small things in life that tend to erode our self esteem over time, and even cause us to make choices that confirm, or conform to, negative labeling by others. It’s not even necessary to use a specific derogatory label to affect people adversely. Thoughtless offhanded comments about hair, clothing, physique, test scores, cars, money, intelligence, and so on tend to label, especially if the recipient is already sensitive regarding something about themselves that they perceive as a shortcoming. On the other hand, we have ample opportunity every day to sow seeds of encouragement with positive labeling and complimentary language. That’s the simplest way to enrich the lives of others, and make the world a better place for everyone. I have a favorite bible verse that I’ve memorized and even have referenced on the screen of my cell phone to remind me how to treat others. “Let no unwholesome word proceed from your mouth, but only such a word as is suitable for edification, according to the need of the moment, that it might bring grace to those who hear.” ~ Ephesians 4:29. Those are great words to live by … and everyone in your life will appreciate them as well.
I also want to touch briefly on what we call ourselves. Our own perceived persona is critical to how we approach life, and all the people in it. If we think of ourselves in a negative light it has a measurable impact on our lives. People who think they are either winners or losers often prove themselves right by living up to, or down to, their own expectations. Do you think of yourself as: witty, fun, deep, smart, kind, energetic, happy, outgoing, successful, etc.? Or do you think of yourself as: dumb, boring, shy, silly, small, poor, hopeless, etc.? These are important questions because they direct our daily intercourse with others, and may even affect our destiny. Now it’s not quite as simple as saying you are what you think. There’s a lot of effort required in life as well. However, you may well become who you think you are over time. Our perceived identity certainly aims our actions and reactions. For example, if you expect very little of yourself you probably won’t be disappointed. Now we do all have certain bents, various physical attributes, and personality types. That’s what makes us … well, us. But some of us are carrying baggage, heaped upon us by our upbringing, past relationships, addictions, or unhealthy behavior. We live with names others have given us instead of looking to the best of ourselves for our identity. What do you call yourself? What would you like to call yourself? Start living towards that new name.
I would also like to call your attention to someone important who seems to change names. God. Historically, God change names as He has interacted with his people though in the bible. These name changes generally reflected His interruption of their previous lives for something better. Here are few examples: When God called Abram He renamed him to Abraham. Likewise, God renamed Abraham’s wife Sarai to Sarah. He renames Jacob to Israel. In the New Testament God renamed Simon to Peter (the Rock), and Saul to Paul. There are also biblical instances where God assigns someone an identity rather than an actual name change. An example would be when He called Gideon mighty warrior, even though Gideon had previously been living with an inferiority complex. But Gideon became a might warrior. The point is that God may have a different name for you than the rather ordinary one you have been living with. God takes the broken, the lonely, and the weary and gives them names of hope and victory. There is an obscure song about this that I really enjoy which goes like this: “I will change your name, you shall no long be called wounded, outcast, lonely or afraid. I will change your name, your new name shall be, confidence, joyfulness, overcoming one, faithfulness, friend of God, one who seeks my face.” So if you’re not happy with the label you’ve hung upon yourself, or perhaps the ones others have thoughtlessly placed upon you, start with some prayer and the bible and see if maybe God has a better name reserved for you. I’d be more than happy to discuss this further with anyone who is interested as well. You just never know.
Now I’ve bounced around a bit today, from child psychology to super heroes to Old Testament patriarchs and I realize that might be a little too much ground to cover for some people. However, I wanted to take a very broad look at this subject. Returning to the title question, what’s in a name? I would say a great deal, so I encourage you to take a closer look how you refer, or infer, to both others and yourself. Refuse to live with, or dispense to others, a label with negative connotations. Who are you, really?
Just for sport, let’s take a look at some super heroes as overt examples of how we relate to names. First of all we have Superman, Wonder Woman and Captain Marvel. These names indicate strengths or character.
Then there others with names that describe specifics about their identity or physical attributes, like: Aqua Man, Spider Man, Iron Man, Batman, Batgirl, Ice Man, and so on. This might seem silly, but it illustrates how names identify us in a way that nearly all of us are familiar with. Might point is that the names we gather, as well as those we cast upon others, say something important about us. Now I’m going to move on, but if for some reason you find this paragraph interesting you can go to www.superheronames.net to look up your favorites or try out the Super Hero Name Generator.
It is important what we call others because labeling can have a powerful influence in people’s lives. I recently corrected a father who was jokingly calling his daughter “booger” as a silly pet name. What if such a name, even offered in jest, stuck with someone? My suggestion was to call a little girl princess, sunshine, or beautiful in order to glean any emotional benefit those names might offer. However, I am clearly a re-namer and have referred to each of my children with dozens of silly names through the years, though I’ve generally tried to keep them positive. We all seem to recall cases where parents have called their children stupid, lazy, worthless, ugly, fat, loser, and so forth, only to have those labels stick, at least emotionally, and affect those children into adulthood. Furthermore, negative labeling usually refers to our worst traits, rather than ones that it would be more fruitful to accentuate. And remember that even if we label people behind their backs those names can stick and catch up with them eventually. Even a mature adult, when confronted with such labels as those listed above, can start to take them to heart. Those are the kind of seemingly small things in life that tend to erode our self esteem over time, and even cause us to make choices that confirm, or conform to, negative labeling by others. It’s not even necessary to use a specific derogatory label to affect people adversely. Thoughtless offhanded comments about hair, clothing, physique, test scores, cars, money, intelligence, and so on tend to label, especially if the recipient is already sensitive regarding something about themselves that they perceive as a shortcoming. On the other hand, we have ample opportunity every day to sow seeds of encouragement with positive labeling and complimentary language. That’s the simplest way to enrich the lives of others, and make the world a better place for everyone. I have a favorite bible verse that I’ve memorized and even have referenced on the screen of my cell phone to remind me how to treat others. “Let no unwholesome word proceed from your mouth, but only such a word as is suitable for edification, according to the need of the moment, that it might bring grace to those who hear.” ~ Ephesians 4:29. Those are great words to live by … and everyone in your life will appreciate them as well.
I also want to touch briefly on what we call ourselves. Our own perceived persona is critical to how we approach life, and all the people in it. If we think of ourselves in a negative light it has a measurable impact on our lives. People who think they are either winners or losers often prove themselves right by living up to, or down to, their own expectations. Do you think of yourself as: witty, fun, deep, smart, kind, energetic, happy, outgoing, successful, etc.? Or do you think of yourself as: dumb, boring, shy, silly, small, poor, hopeless, etc.? These are important questions because they direct our daily intercourse with others, and may even affect our destiny. Now it’s not quite as simple as saying you are what you think. There’s a lot of effort required in life as well. However, you may well become who you think you are over time. Our perceived identity certainly aims our actions and reactions. For example, if you expect very little of yourself you probably won’t be disappointed. Now we do all have certain bents, various physical attributes, and personality types. That’s what makes us … well, us. But some of us are carrying baggage, heaped upon us by our upbringing, past relationships, addictions, or unhealthy behavior. We live with names others have given us instead of looking to the best of ourselves for our identity. What do you call yourself? What would you like to call yourself? Start living towards that new name.
I would also like to call your attention to someone important who seems to change names. God. Historically, God change names as He has interacted with his people though in the bible. These name changes generally reflected His interruption of their previous lives for something better. Here are few examples: When God called Abram He renamed him to Abraham. Likewise, God renamed Abraham’s wife Sarai to Sarah. He renames Jacob to Israel. In the New Testament God renamed Simon to Peter (the Rock), and Saul to Paul. There are also biblical instances where God assigns someone an identity rather than an actual name change. An example would be when He called Gideon mighty warrior, even though Gideon had previously been living with an inferiority complex. But Gideon became a might warrior. The point is that God may have a different name for you than the rather ordinary one you have been living with. God takes the broken, the lonely, and the weary and gives them names of hope and victory. There is an obscure song about this that I really enjoy which goes like this: “I will change your name, you shall no long be called wounded, outcast, lonely or afraid. I will change your name, your new name shall be, confidence, joyfulness, overcoming one, faithfulness, friend of God, one who seeks my face.” So if you’re not happy with the label you’ve hung upon yourself, or perhaps the ones others have thoughtlessly placed upon you, start with some prayer and the bible and see if maybe God has a better name reserved for you. I’d be more than happy to discuss this further with anyone who is interested as well. You just never know.
Now I’ve bounced around a bit today, from child psychology to super heroes to Old Testament patriarchs and I realize that might be a little too much ground to cover for some people. However, I wanted to take a very broad look at this subject. Returning to the title question, what’s in a name? I would say a great deal, so I encourage you to take a closer look how you refer, or infer, to both others and yourself. Refuse to live with, or dispense to others, a label with negative connotations. Who are you, really?
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Bar Hopping
No, this isn’t really about bar hopping, at least not in the traditional sense. It has to do with sandbars. Upon reflection, it occurred to me that my recent entries have been pretty serious and perhaps a little levity was order. Last summer we were sailing on the Chesapeake with friends and our generous host offered me the wheel. I was delighted; delighted to be there and delighted to pilot their large and exceptional sailboat. And what could be better? I was engaged in my favorite leisure activity with some of my favorite people in a scenic new locale. The world was my oyster … for about twenty minutes, after which I promptly ran their beautiful boat aground on a sand bar. It wasn’t a real emergency, and the situation was promptly rectified. In fact, the only damage was to my pride. But hey, it happens. In fact, there’s an old adage that there are only two kinds of sailor: those who have run aground … and liars. Either way, after a few minutes we were back under way and still had an amazing day out on the water. My little grounding incident just became a funny story recounted in the poem below.
I can’t help commenting, however, that no matter how idyllic life may be we all run aground once in a while. And the same adage holds true in the broader world of experience that there are only two kinds of people in the world: those who have had problems, and liars. Sometimes the channel isn’t clearly marked, but more often we’re just careless … like me. But the sand bars should not define our journey. They are just bumps along the way and we need focus on the open waters ahead that still hold so much in store for us. My advice to you is to beware of shallow water and obstacles like sand bars, and avoid the ones you can. But when you do find yourself stuck in the mud, get unstuck and sail on. Some people just stay there in the mud for their whole lives and miss the other amazing parts of the cruise. I say sail on … and bon voyage!
Bar Hopping
It all began innocently enough
With a gentle breeze fair on the beam
As we ghosted down the South River
An idyllic day, out of a dream
The skipper offered me the wheel
And I accepted cheerfully
So, taking the con, I sailed on
Things were going swimmingly
Then, of a sudden, the depth alarm
Began to emit its telltale squeal
Moments later the helm took on
An unusually sluggish feel
Apparently the officer of the watch
Lulled into complacency
Had strayed from the center channel
And drifted off course, you see
One moment there was a bow wave
And the Eastern Shore beckoned afar
The next we were dead in the water
When Frank stuck us hard on the bar
The crew all raced to the lee rail
The skipper reclaimed the Wheel
And we got her off in a moment
With vigorous seamanship and zeal
“It’s OK, no harm, no foul”
The skipper was quick to proclaim
It was just a little mud, after all
But mud had become my name
Yet, disaster was averted
So everyone enjoyed their day
And after I clean the other head
I’m allowed to go out and play
By Frank Carpenter ©
I can’t help commenting, however, that no matter how idyllic life may be we all run aground once in a while. And the same adage holds true in the broader world of experience that there are only two kinds of people in the world: those who have had problems, and liars. Sometimes the channel isn’t clearly marked, but more often we’re just careless … like me. But the sand bars should not define our journey. They are just bumps along the way and we need focus on the open waters ahead that still hold so much in store for us. My advice to you is to beware of shallow water and obstacles like sand bars, and avoid the ones you can. But when you do find yourself stuck in the mud, get unstuck and sail on. Some people just stay there in the mud for their whole lives and miss the other amazing parts of the cruise. I say sail on … and bon voyage!
Bar Hopping
It all began innocently enough
With a gentle breeze fair on the beam
As we ghosted down the South River
An idyllic day, out of a dream
The skipper offered me the wheel
And I accepted cheerfully
So, taking the con, I sailed on
Things were going swimmingly
Then, of a sudden, the depth alarm
Began to emit its telltale squeal
Moments later the helm took on
An unusually sluggish feel
Apparently the officer of the watch
Lulled into complacency
Had strayed from the center channel
And drifted off course, you see
One moment there was a bow wave
And the Eastern Shore beckoned afar
The next we were dead in the water
When Frank stuck us hard on the bar
The crew all raced to the lee rail
The skipper reclaimed the Wheel
And we got her off in a moment
With vigorous seamanship and zeal
“It’s OK, no harm, no foul”
The skipper was quick to proclaim
It was just a little mud, after all
But mud had become my name
Yet, disaster was averted
So everyone enjoyed their day
And after I clean the other head
I’m allowed to go out and play
By Frank Carpenter ©
Saturday, March 05, 2011
Courageous Hearts
Whether we experience only small problems or we are overwhelmed with what life is throwing at us, the freedom to choose our response is what determines how we’ll get through … and who we are. We have the opportunity each day to make courageous choices that can give our life the dignity and meaning that can make it so worthwhile. Yes, I did use the word courageous. You don’t have to be a Marine or a fireman or a policeman in order to be courageous. Each one of us, from the greatest to the least needs courage. Our choices may sometimes seem small, but they are still the choices which define us. They build our character and integrity, they prove our commitment to other people, they bring honor to our roles at home and in the workplace, and they are what carry us through the difficulties we face each day. The critical virtue of courage is the catalyst which transforms an ordinary life into an extraordinary life. You don’t need to lead a battle charge, rush into a burning building or jump out of an airplane to be courageous. All you have to do is make wise choices throughout your daily life. Perhaps you may be called upon to face physical danger at some point in your life. Either way, I guaranty that you face emotional, moral and spiritual danger every day. And in those situations, which are often more difficult to identify than physical danger, we still have the opportunity to do something heroic at every juncture.
It’s so tempting to compromise in our busy and pressured world, and it always seems like there is an easier choice available that would simplify our lives. But courageous people make honorable and difficult choices even when they don’t feel like it. When we’re tired, or busy or running late it’s tempting to choose poorly. If you’re overworked or underappreciated it’s easy to respond selfishly. When the kids are getting to you, or some other relative or friend offends you the natural response is to lash out at them. When you’re doing your taxes or filling out loan documents the temptation to fudge a little presents itself. If you’re sitting in front of your computer and an inappropriate email or advertisement beckons, the most natural thing is to click on it out of curiosity. When you have everyone’s attention why not embellish your story? When folks put us on the spot it’s so simple to fabricate a little lie to protect ourselves or deflect the blame. Each of these moments, regardless how seemingly insignificant, is a test of our courage. Sure, nobody cares, no one is looking, no one will ever find out. No harm, no foul right? We can rationalize things however we like but each choice, like a single tap of the sculptor’s hammer, has an effect upon us in the long run. Each of those instances presents an opportunity to make a courageous choice. Courageous people do the right thing, even when no one is looking.
And if we develop a life of making courageous small choices, when the big ones come along or larger danger looms it will come naturally to continue choosing wisely. The small acts of courage, like the training of an athlete, prepare us for the defining moments of our lives when the chips are really down and much more is at stake. That is when heroes are made … the dramatic heroes we read about in the paper, but also the quiet heroes all around us who are the salt and light of this world.
If you’re going through difficult times right now you’ll be faced with situations and decisions that will test and stretch you. Embrace them and choose wisely so that you may emerge from this dark period as a better person. If things seem to be going great you will have different temptations, but they’ll still be there. Whatever your circumstance, remember that a courageous life will be an extraordinary life. And that is my hope and prayer for you today.
Hearts Courageous
There are those who shove their hands into their pockets
And walk off the field before the game is done
Who quit, forlorn, admitting they are beaten
And concede before they hear the final gun
But there are others who rise up to meet the challenge
And who never give a thought to their defeat
Who are winners, regardless of the scoreboard
Who give everything they have with each heartbeat
These are the ones who run when most are walking
Though muscles ache and sweat streams in their eyes
Who find hope to carry on when all seems hopeless
And forge ahead without a shred of compromise
When the battle rages and the team is slipping
Men of fortitude are always set apart
Not only by their deeds, but by their efforts
And the strength they find within courageous hearts
By Frank Carpenter ©
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Feed the Good Wolf
The issue at hand is the internal conflict between right and wrong, good and evil. The devotional “Jesus Calling” phrased it as follows: “There is a mighty battle going on for control of your mind. Heaven and earth intersect in your mind, and the tugs of both spheres influence your thinking.” Each of us views this struggle based upon our own world view. Some people are content with believing that we just do the best we can based upon our upbringing. Others like the image of the little angels and demons sitting on each shoulder, whispering in our ears. Some will concede to the struggle between God and Satan. A few folks are satisfied with the Jiminy Cricket personification of the human conscience. I’m personally in the God and Satan camp, with perhaps some angels and demons thrown in. However, little red devils with horns and pitch forks are merely an image contrived in Dante’s “Inferno,” so try not to get hung up on the visual. Either way, the two wolves concept pretty much covers this issue. The point is that there seems to be struggle between various influencers in our hearts and minds. Sometimes it’s a conscious struggle and at other times unconscious, but it’s definitely occurring.
Which wolf do you feed? And is it the wolf you are willing to become? That, after all, is what life is all about … becoming. At any given time we are headed in a given direction based upon our choices. The question we must ask ourselves is where are those choices leading us? To humanize the wolf-feeding metaphor consider this quote from fitness icon Jack LaLane: “Every day, and at every meal, we choose our weight.” I won’t dwell on the context of that quote because it stings a little, but its astuteness points to a profound wisdom. The culmination of our daily choices defines our future. While pondering this subject a while ago I cobbled together four words that sum it up for me: Daily Decisions Determine Destiny. And to make them easier to remember I use the term D-4. That is what our daily struggle is all about. Whether you call it the two wolves, a spiritual warfare, or the battle between good and evil, it happens every day right within our own hearts and minds.
And that battle rarely takes the shape of one life-altering decision. For most of us it takes place in a myriad of seemingly harmless choices that happen from moment to moment throughout our days. The battle isn’t a giant sequoia that comes crashing down upon us. In fact, it’s more like a tiny trickle of water that slowly erodes our character. So it would be wrong to think of life in terms of “a” decisive moment. Rather, life is an endless series of decisive moments. And what do those moments decide? In the end they determine who we are, what our life stands for, what our legacy is, and how we will be remembered.
In conclusion I return to the simplicity of the old Cherokee story. Where do all of our choices lead? Who will we become? Which wolf wins? The one we feed. We become the choices we make ... so by sure to feed the good wolf.
The Two Wolves
There are two wolves within me
One is noble, wise and kind
He always guides me towards the good
In body, heart and mind
This wolf seeks the path of honor
And desires the best for me
He respects my fellow man
And understands eternity
Alas, there is another wolf
Who also dwells within
An evil, dark and selfish wolf
Who tempts me unto sin
This second wolf is vicious
He destroys and he devours
He reminds me of my failures
And taunts me in my darkest hours
The evil wolf is cunning
Full of anger, wrath and pride
Striving ever with the better wolf
With whom he dwells inside
And which will be victorious?
It remains yet to be seen
The noble wolf is powerful
But the evil wolf is mean
The choice is really up to me
Which wolf wins and which concedes
For, in the end, the wolf who reigns
Is the one I choose to feed
By Frank Carpenter ©
Thursday, February 17, 2011
The Story
I was speaking with a friend recently who had an interesting family background. Her father had been a professional Jai Alai athlete in Cuba in the heady days before the revolution. This had given him cause to rub elbows with the famous American actors and writers who frequented Havana back then. Later, after everything changed, her parents immigrated to the United States with only the clothes on their backs. To her credit, my friend’s mother meticulously recorded many of the interesting stories related to that particular heritage. This conversation got me thinking about the stories from my own family history, and how each of us has a story of his or her own. Those stories are important because they are such an integral part of who we are. That’s why we need to ask our parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles and others to tell us about their lives, because those lives make up the foundation of who we are. Then we need to tell those old stories, as well as our own, to our children, grandchildren and nieces and nephews. In this we can connect the past to the present and, hopefully discover some wisdom for the future.
This line of thinking leads me to several observations. First of all, we are each an important link in the ongoing chain of our family’s history. If I don’t pass on the history to the next generation I may be robbing them of it entirely. Remember that the past is a gift we can give to those we love which they can cherish in the future. Maybe you don’t have a recorded past, or a pleasant one. Maybe you were orphaned or estranged. What’s done is done, but you can still start the story as a gift to those who come after you, and break that cycle. In this case you have the unique opportunity to give them what you were denied. Even if no one seems to care now, someday it will be too late for our kids to ask about the past, so it’s our responsibility to tell them anyway … or at least write it down.
Secondly, once we’re gone all that’s left is our story. How we live is another gift we give to our children. This is one of the most important things we have to leave them. Listen, you don’t have to be president, or fly jets or leave them a million dollars. If you can’t leave anything but the memory of a happy and loving life you will have done a great thing. The quality of a man’s life isn’t measured in money or power or social status. In the end what will matter is meaningful relationships and changed lives. Those are the only things that can outlive us in this world
I must also insert here that I believe there is a heaven and a better life beyond this brief and temporal one. If that’s true then this life is merely a dress rehearsal so I want my story to point the way to what I believe in. Therefore, I’m taking a hard look at my story to be sure that it’s the one I want to live with for eternity. Maybe you should too. If you have any questions regarding this, please feel free to email me.
As a final illustration on this subject I offer the below poem. I had the rare opportunity to travel with my father, late in his life, back to Minnesota for a couple of high school reunions. As we drove around and he reminisced I sat in the back seat scribbling copious notes about his life. I saw it as a rare opportunity to learn things about my dad that would otherwise never come up. Some of those notes grew into this poem, which I now have the pleasure of sharing with the rest of our family. By doing so I created an extra chapter in our family’s life that otherwise no one would ever know or remember. Now I know that you probably don’t care about my father’s childhood. However, I thought this might be a good example of the facts and stories that you might want to extract from your own relatives … or share with your children.
The point here is that each of us has a story … a story to live, a story to tell, a story to remember, and a story to pass on. What’s your story, and who should know it? And, perhaps more importantly, is your own story the story you want? No matter who you are, what you’ve done or how old you are, there’s still time to change your story. There is still time to give your spouse, your children, and your grandchildren the story you’d like them to cherish for the rest of their lives. I’m hoping and praying that your story will have a happy ending. And I know it still can.
Lake City Days
Oh, sweet memories of my youth
Where the Mississippi, broad and slow
Becomes Lake Peppin for a time
In the quiet valley I used to know
Lake City was my childhood home
Well named and nestled upon the shore
Of Peppin, where my family lived
Good people, solid, happy, poor
I remember the house on North Oak Street
Where water and power, we had none
Jumping rope and climbing the lilac tree
The sound of the trains and boyhood fun
Our neighbor kept bee hives out in back
And rhubarb grew around the yard
The hand pump sink and the big iron stove
Life was good, but times were hard
The back room where mother, when I was sick
Would cradle my fevered head
All through the night upon her lap
I slept there instead of my bed
And also the house on High Street North
Near the corner of Madison
Where more of my childhood days were spent
Snows of winter and summer sun
I remember the green of McCahill field
Where we tasted success and defeat
And the game in that blizzard of '39
By the end snow was nearly two feet
We went to the westerns and serial shows
At the old corner theater
Where heroes of youth were larger than life
And their images still endure
I remember the services at St. John's
Most in German, as I recall
And even at home we spoke German a lot
I knew it well when I was small
Doc Bailey's office and Lundgren's store
The gazebo down town in the park
Near the court house where dances were held
When the evenings of summer grew dark
And I'll never forget my crush on Joanne
For her, I carried my very first torch
It seems silly now, but back then it was not
I left a May basket on her porch
My dad was coach of the football team
And a teacher at Lincoln High
I shared a room with my brother, Don
Chuck Ericson lived near by
We used to swim in the gravel pit
And pull weeds at the nursery
Summer days we fished down at the lake
Where, in winter, we played hockey
It seems like just yesterday somehow
Though, in fact, it was long ago
But I can still feel the Minnesota heat
And envision the drifting snow
I hold these memories and cherish them all
From my Lake City childhood
Life was simpler then and I have no regrets
Times were hard, but life was good
By Frank Carpenter ©
This line of thinking leads me to several observations. First of all, we are each an important link in the ongoing chain of our family’s history. If I don’t pass on the history to the next generation I may be robbing them of it entirely. Remember that the past is a gift we can give to those we love which they can cherish in the future. Maybe you don’t have a recorded past, or a pleasant one. Maybe you were orphaned or estranged. What’s done is done, but you can still start the story as a gift to those who come after you, and break that cycle. In this case you have the unique opportunity to give them what you were denied. Even if no one seems to care now, someday it will be too late for our kids to ask about the past, so it’s our responsibility to tell them anyway … or at least write it down.
Secondly, once we’re gone all that’s left is our story. How we live is another gift we give to our children. This is one of the most important things we have to leave them. Listen, you don’t have to be president, or fly jets or leave them a million dollars. If you can’t leave anything but the memory of a happy and loving life you will have done a great thing. The quality of a man’s life isn’t measured in money or power or social status. In the end what will matter is meaningful relationships and changed lives. Those are the only things that can outlive us in this world
I must also insert here that I believe there is a heaven and a better life beyond this brief and temporal one. If that’s true then this life is merely a dress rehearsal so I want my story to point the way to what I believe in. Therefore, I’m taking a hard look at my story to be sure that it’s the one I want to live with for eternity. Maybe you should too. If you have any questions regarding this, please feel free to email me.
As a final illustration on this subject I offer the below poem. I had the rare opportunity to travel with my father, late in his life, back to Minnesota for a couple of high school reunions. As we drove around and he reminisced I sat in the back seat scribbling copious notes about his life. I saw it as a rare opportunity to learn things about my dad that would otherwise never come up. Some of those notes grew into this poem, which I now have the pleasure of sharing with the rest of our family. By doing so I created an extra chapter in our family’s life that otherwise no one would ever know or remember. Now I know that you probably don’t care about my father’s childhood. However, I thought this might be a good example of the facts and stories that you might want to extract from your own relatives … or share with your children.
The point here is that each of us has a story … a story to live, a story to tell, a story to remember, and a story to pass on. What’s your story, and who should know it? And, perhaps more importantly, is your own story the story you want? No matter who you are, what you’ve done or how old you are, there’s still time to change your story. There is still time to give your spouse, your children, and your grandchildren the story you’d like them to cherish for the rest of their lives. I’m hoping and praying that your story will have a happy ending. And I know it still can.
Lake City Days
Oh, sweet memories of my youth
Where the Mississippi, broad and slow
Becomes Lake Peppin for a time
In the quiet valley I used to know
Lake City was my childhood home
Well named and nestled upon the shore
Of Peppin, where my family lived
Good people, solid, happy, poor
I remember the house on North Oak Street
Where water and power, we had none
Jumping rope and climbing the lilac tree
The sound of the trains and boyhood fun
Our neighbor kept bee hives out in back
And rhubarb grew around the yard
The hand pump sink and the big iron stove
Life was good, but times were hard
The back room where mother, when I was sick
Would cradle my fevered head
All through the night upon her lap
I slept there instead of my bed
And also the house on High Street North
Near the corner of Madison
Where more of my childhood days were spent
Snows of winter and summer sun
I remember the green of McCahill field
Where we tasted success and defeat
And the game in that blizzard of '39
By the end snow was nearly two feet
We went to the westerns and serial shows
At the old corner theater
Where heroes of youth were larger than life
And their images still endure
I remember the services at St. John's
Most in German, as I recall
And even at home we spoke German a lot
I knew it well when I was small
Doc Bailey's office and Lundgren's store
The gazebo down town in the park
Near the court house where dances were held
When the evenings of summer grew dark
And I'll never forget my crush on Joanne
For her, I carried my very first torch
It seems silly now, but back then it was not
I left a May basket on her porch
My dad was coach of the football team
And a teacher at Lincoln High
I shared a room with my brother, Don
Chuck Ericson lived near by
We used to swim in the gravel pit
And pull weeds at the nursery
Summer days we fished down at the lake
Where, in winter, we played hockey
It seems like just yesterday somehow
Though, in fact, it was long ago
But I can still feel the Minnesota heat
And envision the drifting snow
I hold these memories and cherish them all
From my Lake City childhood
Life was simpler then and I have no regrets
Times were hard, but life was good
By Frank Carpenter ©
Sunday, January 30, 2011
A Husband's Prayer
When I look around lately there seem to be a lot of relationships in trouble, or at least struggling. Couples often don’t see eye to eye, or they have reached a stage of passive-aggressive détente. The thing is that if life can be so much better than that, why should we settle for it? Let’s be clear, I’m not advocating divorce. Rather, I’m advocating that we roll up our sleeves and make things work for the better. John Lenin penned the famous lyrics, “All you need is love.” Well that’s theoretically true, but it doesn’t make much allowance for human nature. In fact, relationships do need much more than love. Love is great. Love is amazing. I’m the hugest fan of love ever. However, we live in a world that has been duped by Hollywood, popular music, and even literature. Folks think that if they have love they’ve got it made and the “happily ever after” is nothing less than a foregone conclusion. Then they can’t figure out why they’re unhappy four years later and they want to move out because their spouse squeezes the toothpaste wrong or clicks the cereal bowl too loudly with their spoon. The issue at the heart of this is that we need to redefine love.
At the root of it all, we have a problem with semantics. Too many people believe that love is a noun. They think of it as a romantic ideal, and if you’re lucky enough to have it then you’ve got the ticket for violins and sunsets. That sounds great, but it’s entirely too shallow for long-term effectiveness. The concept that you can just have “it” and that’s all you’ll need doesn’t fly. For if we follow such a line of reasoning, then what do you do when “it” goes away? Are we then off the hook because the relationship no longer has any basis? Love, as a feeling, comes and goes in far too fickle a manner to be depended solely upon. But love, real love, is not a noun at all. It’s a verb, perhaps the best verb of all. Real love is action. We don’t merely have it, we do it. So if we truly love then it will be active … actually, make that proactive.
That being said, I will turn my thoughts towards today’s intended audience. I want to talk to you men, not because I find any particular fault with you, but because you’re my demographic and the group I feel called to speak to today. Men, we need to step up and take the fact that love is a verb to heart. I encourage you to become a student of your wife and learn what makes her happy. Then take a proactive approach to loving her. And here’s the thing: If we work to make our wives happy, and love them unconditionally, then they will generally respond in kind. Love and marriage aren’t fifty-fifty arrangements. Relationship is about giving one hundred percent. So I’m calling on you men to do your part, unilaterally if necessary. It’s up to us to take the lead and set the tone for our shared happiness. Make sure that love, your love specifically, is a verb. That’s the path to the better kind of adjectives, after all.
Now today’s offering has been aimed all along at a prayer, as I fully disclosed in the title. Here’s the thing. I’m a Christian and I believe that God is the author of real love, and that’s why I offer the following prayer for husbands. If you disagree with me, you can drop the last stanza and you’re still in business, but you may miss out on what I personally consider the foundation of my own thirty years of extremely happy and successful marriage. Either way, let’s make sure that we keep our love alive by practicing it every day. To that end, I offer you the following manly marriage metaphor. Love is like a shark. It has to keep swimming or it sinks to the bottom and drowns. So I’m counting on you, guys, to keep your love swimming. A good start will be to pray the following prayer. You might even want to print it out, tack it up, and read it over once in a while. If your wife saw this little prayer in your wallet or taped to the bathroom mirror it would warm her heart to brimming. If you actually prayed it and took it to heart, you might just end up in the hall of fame of awesome husbands. And every guy wants to be in the hall of fame. So remember … it’s a verb.
With All My Heart
(A Husband's Prayer)
With all my heart, with all my mind
May I be faithful, gentle and kind
May I be watchful and creative
Ever wary of the needs
Of the one whom I adore
May I be willing to concede
Willing, also, to forgive
And more important, to forget
Slow to anger, quick to listen
Never speaking curse nor threat
May I be conscious of my duty
To her dignity and pride
Responsive to the subtle hints
Which reveal the heart inside
May I be mindful of how fragile
Close relationships can be
Placing her above my selfish needs
At each opportunity
Lord, rekindle in me daily
The love I have for her
So my thoughts and deeds and motives
And devotion remain pure
May I be the kind of husband
That my wife needs me to be
Loving her with all my heart
And bringing glory, Lord, to Thee
By Frank Carpenter ©
At the root of it all, we have a problem with semantics. Too many people believe that love is a noun. They think of it as a romantic ideal, and if you’re lucky enough to have it then you’ve got the ticket for violins and sunsets. That sounds great, but it’s entirely too shallow for long-term effectiveness. The concept that you can just have “it” and that’s all you’ll need doesn’t fly. For if we follow such a line of reasoning, then what do you do when “it” goes away? Are we then off the hook because the relationship no longer has any basis? Love, as a feeling, comes and goes in far too fickle a manner to be depended solely upon. But love, real love, is not a noun at all. It’s a verb, perhaps the best verb of all. Real love is action. We don’t merely have it, we do it. So if we truly love then it will be active … actually, make that proactive.
That being said, I will turn my thoughts towards today’s intended audience. I want to talk to you men, not because I find any particular fault with you, but because you’re my demographic and the group I feel called to speak to today. Men, we need to step up and take the fact that love is a verb to heart. I encourage you to become a student of your wife and learn what makes her happy. Then take a proactive approach to loving her. And here’s the thing: If we work to make our wives happy, and love them unconditionally, then they will generally respond in kind. Love and marriage aren’t fifty-fifty arrangements. Relationship is about giving one hundred percent. So I’m calling on you men to do your part, unilaterally if necessary. It’s up to us to take the lead and set the tone for our shared happiness. Make sure that love, your love specifically, is a verb. That’s the path to the better kind of adjectives, after all.
Now today’s offering has been aimed all along at a prayer, as I fully disclosed in the title. Here’s the thing. I’m a Christian and I believe that God is the author of real love, and that’s why I offer the following prayer for husbands. If you disagree with me, you can drop the last stanza and you’re still in business, but you may miss out on what I personally consider the foundation of my own thirty years of extremely happy and successful marriage. Either way, let’s make sure that we keep our love alive by practicing it every day. To that end, I offer you the following manly marriage metaphor. Love is like a shark. It has to keep swimming or it sinks to the bottom and drowns. So I’m counting on you, guys, to keep your love swimming. A good start will be to pray the following prayer. You might even want to print it out, tack it up, and read it over once in a while. If your wife saw this little prayer in your wallet or taped to the bathroom mirror it would warm her heart to brimming. If you actually prayed it and took it to heart, you might just end up in the hall of fame of awesome husbands. And every guy wants to be in the hall of fame. So remember … it’s a verb.
With All My Heart
(A Husband's Prayer)
With all my heart, with all my mind
May I be faithful, gentle and kind
May I be watchful and creative
Ever wary of the needs
Of the one whom I adore
May I be willing to concede
Willing, also, to forgive
And more important, to forget
Slow to anger, quick to listen
Never speaking curse nor threat
May I be conscious of my duty
To her dignity and pride
Responsive to the subtle hints
Which reveal the heart inside
May I be mindful of how fragile
Close relationships can be
Placing her above my selfish needs
At each opportunity
Lord, rekindle in me daily
The love I have for her
So my thoughts and deeds and motives
And devotion remain pure
May I be the kind of husband
That my wife needs me to be
Loving her with all my heart
And bringing glory, Lord, to Thee
By Frank Carpenter ©
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Just Where You Are
Today I’m reaching out to those who may be hurting or in distress. Life can be difficult sometimes. Whether we are in the midst of the big life-threatening or life-changing trials, or simply overwhelmed by the stress of the day or situation, the feelings can be much the same. Sometimes life just seems like everything is going wrong and we have no place to turn. To that I say that we absolutely have someplace to turn. God. There is a God who cares about you and understands all that you are going through. Even if it feels like He’s a million miles away, He’s actually right beside you. Do you feel like it’s been too long since you’ve prayed or gone to church? It hasn’t. Are you in a bad place in your life and you’re afraid to be honest with God? You needn’t be. The amazing thing is that whoever we are, wherever we are, whatever we’ve gone through … God meets us right where we are. He is a friend to the brokenhearted and loves you more than you could know. So if you’re lonely or sad or tired, disappointed, discouraged, or hard of heart just close your eyes and open your mouth and ask God to meet you right where you are. It doesn’t take an eloquent prayer to get God’s attention. It just takes and honest one. Whatever you’re facing in life, you don’t have to face it alone. Give God a chance to give you a second chance. The next move is yours.
Just Where You Are
Maybe your heart is broken
Or the darkness is closing in
Perhaps you are overwhelmed by pain
Or your faith is wearing thin
Wherever you may be in life
Whatever you’re going through
God stoops to meet you where you are
And He’s reaching out to you
Let Him wrap His arms around you
And draw you into His care
For wherever you may find yourself
Your God will meet you there
By Frank Carpenter ©
Just Where You Are
Maybe your heart is broken
Or the darkness is closing in
Perhaps you are overwhelmed by pain
Or your faith is wearing thin
Wherever you may be in life
Whatever you’re going through
God stoops to meet you where you are
And He’s reaching out to you
Let Him wrap His arms around you
And draw you into His care
For wherever you may find yourself
Your God will meet you there
By Frank Carpenter ©
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Collections
Have you ever paused to think about the things to which you ascribe value? I think an interesting way to approach this question is to consider what we collect. In one way or another we are all collectors of some sort, often without even knowing it. There are the obvious collectables like stamps, coins, etc. I know that in my youth I collected stamps. As it turns out the stamps weren’t all that important to me and, upon reflection, I realize that I mostly enjoyed sharing the time and interest with my step dad. He would probably say the same thing because we have a lot of fond memories of buying, organizing and generally messing around with stamps. I think it was kind of a rainy Saturday pastime because, even as a distracted middle-aged adult, rainy days still make me think about sitting around the dining room table in my childhood home with my step dad. I would venture to say the best hobbies and collections are those that revolve around relationships.
To get back on task, I wonder what you collect. I love books, but only have about one shelf worth that I really care about. Some folks collect books rabidly. Books are a good thing, but they are meant to be read and many people collect them for decoration rather than their historical or intellectual value. I know someone who collects matchbooks, which at least have location names on them that can associate them with memories. Lots of folks collect pictures. Especially since the advent of digital photography in the past 10 years, there is a lot more to do with our photos. Again, I appreciate that photos are also wrapped up with memories and history. I have known a couple of people, though, for whom the obsession with the photos at times eclipsed the loved ones they represented. Garage people collect tools. Kitchen people collect the assorted appliances and utensils of their passion. Garden people, in their own way, collect plants and flowers. Art people collect various paintings and other mediums. Some have a bent towards sports memorabilia. All these are fine passions and have the potential to be finer still if we employ them for the service and encouragement of others.
Keep in mind also that, at least to mind, what qualifies one as a collector is not the quantity of objects, but their passion for, and commitment to, those objects. I’ve known families who had only two cars, yet they were so passionate and meticulous about those particular cars that I’d call them collectors. Let us also consider that there are even some people who collect other people. They are not slave owners, mind you, but they are so conscious of the number and quality of their relationships, as well as the enjoyment and pursuit thereof, that I’d definitely categorize them as collectors. So you see, there are many ways to approach this concept.
And what about me? Definitely not the cars, but maybe the people. My stamps have been in a box in the garage for a couple of decades. I do collect obscure, old, and unusual post cards. However, I do so only for the purpose of mailing them to others as part of my own correspondence. The only thing I really collect on an ongoing basis is rocks. No, I’m not a geology buff. I just pick up rocks when I travel that represent particular memories or events. They aren’t large, nor are there all that many. Nonetheless, I have bowl of rocks on my desk at work filled with my favorite rocks. I tend to pick up interesting ones that have a flat side, which allows me to write the date and the name of the place on them. What, might you ask, makes a worthy rock for my coveted bowl? Here are a few examples:
· I have a rock from climbing to the top of Mt. Whitney
· One from each of my children’s universities
· One from walking on the beach with my dear wife
· Some from several national parks of particular interest
· My dear friend brought me one from Babylon during the 2nd Gulf War
· I have a tiny sea urchin from snorkeling with my daughter (OK, not a rock)
· A strange looking rock from my son’s new back yard
· Quite a few from assorted vacations
· My wife visited Sri Lanka right after the tsunami and brought me some rubble
· A piece of a crumbling wall in a French country village
· A worthless rock from a gold mine my father-in-law visited (family joke)
· One from the central coast beach where my bride and I fell in love
· A brick from a forgotten town in Arizona named after my great, great grandfather
· Another brick from the home we lived in when we first married (now destroyed)
· A piece of petrified wood from a favorite mesa in Utah
Well, I think you get the point. And what is actual cash value of my complete rock collection? It probably tallies up at about nine cents. However, they are priceless to me because the rocks tell the story of my life, or at least the high points of my life. They show where I spent my leisure time, where we took our family vacations, and also where I generally wrote a poem to accompany the memory. These are not just stones, but touchstones that catalogue my travels. They are like the products of an archeological dig which give clues to where I went, how I lived, why those memories matter, and who I shared them with. Anyway, that’s why I collect rocks. And I’m certainly not advocating that anyone else should, but it works for me.
As you perhaps review your own tendency to collect, I hope I may have opened a window of perspective for you. Enjoy your own passion, and don’t forget to share it with others and explain to your loved ones why you collect things and what they mean to you.
Rocks
You never know what folks will value
And when I pause to recollect
The list is nearly endless
Of the thing that we collect
From plethora of tourist trinkets
Stuffed animals and guns
To works of art and cars, I guess
There is something for everyone
I know a fellow who saves matchbooks
Some coins or stamps or swizzle sticks
Antique, retro, modern
Really, you can take your pick
Me, I’ve got a thing for rocks
And wherever I may be
I pick up a rock along the way
Maybe even two or three
I write the date and locale on them
To recall the place to me
And each becomes a sort of bookmark
That represents a memory
I keep them in a bowl at home
Digging through them now and then
As they are tangible reminders
Which take me back again
To people and to places
Which, through the years I’ve known
And a host of moments that I
Cherish more than precious stones
These rocks have no commercial value
Yet, they’re priceless, don’t you see
For they catalogue my lifetime
And each contains a memory
By Frank Carpenter ©
To get back on task, I wonder what you collect. I love books, but only have about one shelf worth that I really care about. Some folks collect books rabidly. Books are a good thing, but they are meant to be read and many people collect them for decoration rather than their historical or intellectual value. I know someone who collects matchbooks, which at least have location names on them that can associate them with memories. Lots of folks collect pictures. Especially since the advent of digital photography in the past 10 years, there is a lot more to do with our photos. Again, I appreciate that photos are also wrapped up with memories and history. I have known a couple of people, though, for whom the obsession with the photos at times eclipsed the loved ones they represented. Garage people collect tools. Kitchen people collect the assorted appliances and utensils of their passion. Garden people, in their own way, collect plants and flowers. Art people collect various paintings and other mediums. Some have a bent towards sports memorabilia. All these are fine passions and have the potential to be finer still if we employ them for the service and encouragement of others.
Keep in mind also that, at least to mind, what qualifies one as a collector is not the quantity of objects, but their passion for, and commitment to, those objects. I’ve known families who had only two cars, yet they were so passionate and meticulous about those particular cars that I’d call them collectors. Let us also consider that there are even some people who collect other people. They are not slave owners, mind you, but they are so conscious of the number and quality of their relationships, as well as the enjoyment and pursuit thereof, that I’d definitely categorize them as collectors. So you see, there are many ways to approach this concept.
And what about me? Definitely not the cars, but maybe the people. My stamps have been in a box in the garage for a couple of decades. I do collect obscure, old, and unusual post cards. However, I do so only for the purpose of mailing them to others as part of my own correspondence. The only thing I really collect on an ongoing basis is rocks. No, I’m not a geology buff. I just pick up rocks when I travel that represent particular memories or events. They aren’t large, nor are there all that many. Nonetheless, I have bowl of rocks on my desk at work filled with my favorite rocks. I tend to pick up interesting ones that have a flat side, which allows me to write the date and the name of the place on them. What, might you ask, makes a worthy rock for my coveted bowl? Here are a few examples:
· I have a rock from climbing to the top of Mt. Whitney
· One from each of my children’s universities
· One from walking on the beach with my dear wife
· Some from several national parks of particular interest
· My dear friend brought me one from Babylon during the 2nd Gulf War
· I have a tiny sea urchin from snorkeling with my daughter (OK, not a rock)
· A strange looking rock from my son’s new back yard
· Quite a few from assorted vacations
· My wife visited Sri Lanka right after the tsunami and brought me some rubble
· A piece of a crumbling wall in a French country village
· A worthless rock from a gold mine my father-in-law visited (family joke)
· One from the central coast beach where my bride and I fell in love
· A brick from a forgotten town in Arizona named after my great, great grandfather
· Another brick from the home we lived in when we first married (now destroyed)
· A piece of petrified wood from a favorite mesa in Utah
Well, I think you get the point. And what is actual cash value of my complete rock collection? It probably tallies up at about nine cents. However, they are priceless to me because the rocks tell the story of my life, or at least the high points of my life. They show where I spent my leisure time, where we took our family vacations, and also where I generally wrote a poem to accompany the memory. These are not just stones, but touchstones that catalogue my travels. They are like the products of an archeological dig which give clues to where I went, how I lived, why those memories matter, and who I shared them with. Anyway, that’s why I collect rocks. And I’m certainly not advocating that anyone else should, but it works for me.
As you perhaps review your own tendency to collect, I hope I may have opened a window of perspective for you. Enjoy your own passion, and don’t forget to share it with others and explain to your loved ones why you collect things and what they mean to you.
Rocks
You never know what folks will value
And when I pause to recollect
The list is nearly endless
Of the thing that we collect
From plethora of tourist trinkets
Stuffed animals and guns
To works of art and cars, I guess
There is something for everyone
I know a fellow who saves matchbooks
Some coins or stamps or swizzle sticks
Antique, retro, modern
Really, you can take your pick
Me, I’ve got a thing for rocks
And wherever I may be
I pick up a rock along the way
Maybe even two or three
I write the date and locale on them
To recall the place to me
And each becomes a sort of bookmark
That represents a memory
I keep them in a bowl at home
Digging through them now and then
As they are tangible reminders
Which take me back again
To people and to places
Which, through the years I’ve known
And a host of moments that I
Cherish more than precious stones
These rocks have no commercial value
Yet, they’re priceless, don’t you see
For they catalogue my lifetime
And each contains a memory
By Frank Carpenter ©
Sunday, January 09, 2011
Resolution
Well, here we are in a brand new year. This is the time when many people think about new beginnings. They plan, they write lists, and they make resolutions. Chances you are more organized them me, but I’ve had less than outstanding experience with New Year’s resolutions. Please note that there is no shortage of things about me that could use an overhaul, or at least some improvement. The resolution program just doesn’t seem to be the right motivational tool for promoting long-term change in my own life. However, I do want to be a better person and the logical choice for me is to work on my trajectory. While I’m loath obligate myself to a list, I have resolved to keep moving in the right direction in important areas of my life. I’m a sailor and it’s easy for me think in terms of a compass heading. So, even as I distain a specific list for myself, I have taken some bearings and will attempt to stay on course so that each day, in some way, I’m a better man than I was the day before.
As I was pondering these things I came across the following quote by Benjamin Franklin: “Be always at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let each year find you a better man.” That seems to sum up my current thinking on this subject. As you face your own New Year I hope that you’ll join me in this venture at least. Are you more highly organized or motivated? If you got a list of ten things that you truly intend to accomplish this year then more power to you. You might even be my hero. If not, let’s just be better. Let’s move towards better health. Let’s be better friends, fathers, mothers, employees, grandparents, citizens, believers, brothers, sisters, etc. If the world is going to be a better place, we are going to have to be better people. That’s a good start, and a journey we can all begin together.
A Better Man
Here we are at New Years Day again
I’ve found a rock to sit upon
And ponder what the next year holds
Now that the last is gone
I won’t delude myself by drafting
Some long list of resolutions
Since history so oft has shown
I’ve not the will for execution
Yet, the wisdom of my hindsight
So dearly bought in years gone by
Still provides encouragement
Throughout this coming year to try
To become a better person
And make the world a better place
At least the little corner of it
Within my power to embrace
For if I can make a difference
In the little sphere I see
Then that gives my life a purpose
And it must begin with me
No long list of resolutions
Or some complicated plan
But I resolve to strive each day
To be a better man
By Frank Carpenter ©
As I was pondering these things I came across the following quote by Benjamin Franklin: “Be always at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let each year find you a better man.” That seems to sum up my current thinking on this subject. As you face your own New Year I hope that you’ll join me in this venture at least. Are you more highly organized or motivated? If you got a list of ten things that you truly intend to accomplish this year then more power to you. You might even be my hero. If not, let’s just be better. Let’s move towards better health. Let’s be better friends, fathers, mothers, employees, grandparents, citizens, believers, brothers, sisters, etc. If the world is going to be a better place, we are going to have to be better people. That’s a good start, and a journey we can all begin together.
A Better Man
Here we are at New Years Day again
I’ve found a rock to sit upon
And ponder what the next year holds
Now that the last is gone
I won’t delude myself by drafting
Some long list of resolutions
Since history so oft has shown
I’ve not the will for execution
Yet, the wisdom of my hindsight
So dearly bought in years gone by
Still provides encouragement
Throughout this coming year to try
To become a better person
And make the world a better place
At least the little corner of it
Within my power to embrace
For if I can make a difference
In the little sphere I see
Then that gives my life a purpose
And it must begin with me
No long list of resolutions
Or some complicated plan
But I resolve to strive each day
To be a better man
By Frank Carpenter ©
Thursday, December 30, 2010
A Holiday Epilogue
Well Christmas is officially over, at least the actual day. Our own living room still remains festooned with a tree, decorations, and various piles of presents which have yet to find permanent homes. And I must add that we’re still turning on the Christmas lights outside each night. Nonetheless, anyway you slice it we’re definitely on the back side of the holiday, even though I’m only now beginning to recover from the gluttony and sleep deprivation. The final side effect will, of course, come in January when the credit card bills arrive. Yet, as always, we had a great Christmas together. But what is the formula for a great Christmas?
Upon reflection I’ve come to realize that the success of my personal Christmas had nothing to do with lights, decorations, trees, carols, cards, food … or even presents. All of these traditional trappings were the frosting, but they aren’t the actual cake. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a Tibetan monk. I love all this stuff. I relish it and enjoy sharing it with everyone around me. The traditional and commercial items listed above are lots of fun, but they are rarely the source of true joy. In contrast thereto, here are some of the things that brought me true joy this Christmas, by which I mean the season and not just the day:
· Faith. The true and original story of Christmas is about God reaching out and sacrificing his only Son as a payment for our sins. Even though the actual date of December 25th is probably way off this is still the traditional day for our celebration of Jesus Christ, the Son God sent to reconcile Himself to us. I am a Christian, which means that I have acknowledged my sinful nature and accepted God’s forgiveness of that sin through the sacrifice of Jesus on a cross. Christmas means so much more because I believe with all my heart that God and Jesus are real, and that the birth of Jesus Christ as a human baby is the true and historical crossroad of eternity, by which God provided a path for everlasting life with Him.
· My marriage. A happy home makes any holiday more meaningful because it provides a basis for the joy that I believe our lives are intended for. I count myself extra fortunate to have an amazing wife whom I look forward to spending not only Christmas with, but every day of my life. Her beauty, wisdom, encouragement and fun make every day better, and especially a holiday. For over thirty years she has been the center of my earthly life and the fountain of my happiness.
· My children. It has also been my good fortune to have three wonderful adult children who are a blessing in every sense of the word. Sharing Christmas with them is both a pleasure and an honor, and all the more so as I see them embracing the faith and traditions they were raised with. They’ve also given us a first grandchild this year, which just makes everything better.
· Extended family. We are blessed with large extended families on both sides that are both loving and supportive. I’m very thankful the foundation of happiness and traditions that they provided, and which are so much a part of our lives.
· Friends. We’ve also been blessed with a large galaxy of close and long-term friendships. These relationships have added both depth and meaning to our lives in more ways than I can say. Friends have provided a rock of support, a touchstone of faith, and a great deal of pleasure to the life we share together.
I have been particularly blessed in all of the above areas. As you might well guess then, I already had everything I really wanted for Christmas long before the first present was ever opened, or even wrapped. That’s because I have all that I need, more than I deserve, and everything this is important. As for the rest of holidays, the frosting part? It was nearly perfect as well, but all the things that really matter are what filled my heart with Christmas joy. I wish the same for each of you.
Upon reflection I’ve come to realize that the success of my personal Christmas had nothing to do with lights, decorations, trees, carols, cards, food … or even presents. All of these traditional trappings were the frosting, but they aren’t the actual cake. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a Tibetan monk. I love all this stuff. I relish it and enjoy sharing it with everyone around me. The traditional and commercial items listed above are lots of fun, but they are rarely the source of true joy. In contrast thereto, here are some of the things that brought me true joy this Christmas, by which I mean the season and not just the day:
· Faith. The true and original story of Christmas is about God reaching out and sacrificing his only Son as a payment for our sins. Even though the actual date of December 25th is probably way off this is still the traditional day for our celebration of Jesus Christ, the Son God sent to reconcile Himself to us. I am a Christian, which means that I have acknowledged my sinful nature and accepted God’s forgiveness of that sin through the sacrifice of Jesus on a cross. Christmas means so much more because I believe with all my heart that God and Jesus are real, and that the birth of Jesus Christ as a human baby is the true and historical crossroad of eternity, by which God provided a path for everlasting life with Him.
· My marriage. A happy home makes any holiday more meaningful because it provides a basis for the joy that I believe our lives are intended for. I count myself extra fortunate to have an amazing wife whom I look forward to spending not only Christmas with, but every day of my life. Her beauty, wisdom, encouragement and fun make every day better, and especially a holiday. For over thirty years she has been the center of my earthly life and the fountain of my happiness.
· My children. It has also been my good fortune to have three wonderful adult children who are a blessing in every sense of the word. Sharing Christmas with them is both a pleasure and an honor, and all the more so as I see them embracing the faith and traditions they were raised with. They’ve also given us a first grandchild this year, which just makes everything better.
· Extended family. We are blessed with large extended families on both sides that are both loving and supportive. I’m very thankful the foundation of happiness and traditions that they provided, and which are so much a part of our lives.
· Friends. We’ve also been blessed with a large galaxy of close and long-term friendships. These relationships have added both depth and meaning to our lives in more ways than I can say. Friends have provided a rock of support, a touchstone of faith, and a great deal of pleasure to the life we share together.
I have been particularly blessed in all of the above areas. As you might well guess then, I already had everything I really wanted for Christmas long before the first present was ever opened, or even wrapped. That’s because I have all that I need, more than I deserve, and everything this is important. As for the rest of holidays, the frosting part? It was nearly perfect as well, but all the things that really matter are what filled my heart with Christmas joy. I wish the same for each of you.
Monday, December 20, 2010
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 ©
“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 ©
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
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 ©
Saturday, October 16, 2010
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 ©
Monday, October 04, 2010
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 ©
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 ©
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
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 ©
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 ©
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
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 ©
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 ©
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
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 ©
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 ©
Wednesday, September 08, 2010
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.
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.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
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 ©
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 ©
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