Father's Day

I write today from southern Washington, where I’m spending time with my son and his family. But I also want to pause and pay tribute to my step dad, known to many as Dr. Dud. He is the kind of person who was always there for everyone. A young man could not ask for a better person to step into his life and be a dad, and I thank God regularly for bringing Dr. Dud into my life. To just say that he was at every soccer and football game doesn’t begin to cover it. He is our dad, but has also been our friend and confidant. Yet, it wasn’t until I had children and grandchildren of my own that I came to truly appreciate all of his effort and sacrifice throughout the years. He invested all of himself in us, and I am a better person because of him. Dud taught me to be a man. In a group setting recently we were asked to share about a person who had made a difference in our lives, a person who was a hero to us. I immediately thought of Dr. Dud and then wrote the below poem about him.

So this is my Father’s Day tribute to Dr. Dudley Pfaff, the man who has had so much influence on my life and one whom I am also very proud to call my friend. I once heard a wise person say that fathers are made of blood, but dads are made of love. No truer words were ever spoken. Thanks, dad, for the man you are and the example you have been to all of us. Much love always, Frank.

To Be a Man

When I look back across the years

And all that I’ve been through

Among the things I’m thankful for

Is the gift of having you

Your example as a Christian man

And a life of humility

Have helped to mold and shape my life

And meant the world to me

Thank you for all that you have done

To point me to God’s plan

For you showed me what it means

To be a Godly man

               By Frank Carpenter ©

Rocks for Sale

As I was driving down our street on a recent Saturday morning I came upon a very interesting sale. The neighbor kids across from us were out on their driveway in front of a hand painted sign that read, “Rocks for Sale.” Naturally, I had to investigate. The kids had painted some rocks and added glitter to create what they considered works of art. These sub-precious stones were for sale at the bargain rate of only 25 cents each. Now I’m a sucker for anything that kids sell. In fact, we have a family policy that no matter how much of a hurry you’re in you have to stop at every lemonade stand and make a purchase. And I had to admit that a rock sale, while clearly unconventional, conformed to at least the spirit of the aforementioned lemonade policy. Needless to say, I stopped to peruse the geologic curiosities of the neighborhood rock barons.

Clearly these preschool kids were onto something because their creations were interesting, to say the least. They thought they had some truly marketable treasures and who was I to dispute the unbiased artistic wisdom of children. This gave me pause to consider some of the things that grownups assign value to. In fact, we seem to fill our lives with trinkets and conveniences that have little more intrinsic value than those glitter rocks did. Our stores, art galleries and even art museums are brimming with items that have no more utility than a rock, and are often far less appealing … at least in my opinion. Not to mention that you’d be hard pressed to derive a greater joy-per-dollar benefit than these particular 25 cent rocks promised. I’m clearly not an art critic, but you would have to concede that throughout our culture there are countless items, art and otherwise, for which the assigned value is often unrelated to the intrinsic value or the utility value. This merely confirms the old adage that beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder.

Consequently, I would challenge each of you to survey your own life and consider what things are truly precious. If you’re anything like me, you may discover that you have assigned value to many things that are actually worthless in the long run. What is more, we often work ourselves to death so that we can own all these things. Perhaps they even own us. As it turns out the most priceless things in our lives are probably the ones that don’t cost anything; like people, happiness, laughter, faith and the like. So those are the things in which to invest our precious and limited resources.

I’ve included a poem below that I actually did write on another occasion, while watching some little girls assign artistic value to a pile of rocks on a beach long ago. They taught me a lesson which I have never forgotten. That lesson was that joy can be derived from almost anything if you approach it with the heart of a child. So don’t fill your life with stuff that doesn’t matter. Instead, look for the beauty in what is near at hand … and discover how to enjoy it. And if you should happen to pass happen to pass a sign that reads “Rocks for Sale” hit the brakes, dump all the coins out of your car’s ash tray, and get yourself a whole bag of the little beauties. I bought five.

Pebbles

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

River Dawn

I'm out of town for the holiday weekend and when I travel I always seem to rise early in the morning. We are in Sacramento today and I had the pleasure of taking my morning walk along the Sacrameto river. Very beautiful and, at least for me, inspirational. Below are two poems I penned as I walked. My hope and prayer for you this day is that you may seek out the moments of beauty and inspiration along your way, wherever you may go.

River Dawn

The first golden rays of sunlight
Stretch out across the land
To meet me on the levy
And they take me by the hand
As I wander by the river
In the morning's first embrace
Soaking up the tranquil beauty
I've discovered in this place
And the river draws me onward
Meandering its shores
Where countless other dreamers
I daresay have tread before
Serenaded by the morning doves
And other birds unknown to me
My heart drifts down the river
Past the delta to the sea
While shafts of light illuminate
The cottonwood's downy snow
To create a pale aurora
All about me as I go
I could wander here forever
Down this path I've struck upon
Soaking up the peace of morning
Where the river meets the dawn
                              By Frank Carpenter ©

You Meet Me

A Psalm of Morning
Lord, I meet You in the morning
Where the quiet waters flow
Into the very depths of me
And through my weary soul
You turn my heart back towards You
From whence it may have roamed
And fill me with the Spirit
Which has made my heart Its home
You quiet me, You comfort me
You incline my heart to hear
The words of your still small voice
As You whisper in my ear
Lord, You meet me in the morning
Where the quiet waters flow
Into the very depths of me
That I may just be still and know
                          By Frank Carpenter ©

The End of the Jetty

Last Sunday morning I rose when it was still dark and drove to the tip of the Balboa Peninsula, whereupon I scrambled over the rocks to the end of the west jetty at the entrance to Newport Harbor. I’ve lived in this area my whole life, but I’m not sure that I had ever made it out there before. However, I’d had a hankering to do so because an image of that spot had been swirling around in my head for a few weeks, and I was well-rewarded for my efforts. Now I do live in an amazing area, but it never ceases to amaze me what there is to be discovered just a few minutes from our front doors. The trick is that we actually have to walk out of our doors in search of adventure. If we’re busy and we don’t care, then we’re not likely to experience anything truly amazing. Yet, if we actively pursue beauty or wonder or adventure there is plenty to be found within striking distance of wherever you may be. An open mind and a little creativity can often open doors of experience that we might never have thought possible. I’m trying to learn to approach each day with the thought, “Well God, what have you got in store for me today?” That’s the kind of open-ended question which is more than likely to deliver.

The other thing I find is that being up and ready to go in the morning makes a world of a difference if we want to discover all that life has to offer. If we’re spending our whole lives just barely getting ready in time for the next calendar item we’re liable to walk or drive right by some of the best moments that life has to offer. Much of life happens in the margins, in the blank squares on our calendars or extra moments in a day. Take, for instance, my experience of last Sunday that I have relayed in the paragraph above and the poem below. I woke early in expectation of something worthwhile happening. I drove and walked and boulder hopped and had the margin in my life to sit out on the end of the jetty all by myself for an hour. I experienced all that, actually saw all of those animals up close, felt the ocean spray on my face, experienced the wonder of creation first-hand and reveled in the beauty of an amazing new day … and still made it to church on time. That’s what I mean by actively pursuing beauty and wonder and adventure. Half of life is simply showing up, just being available to live it to the fullest.

For those who are willing to approach life, or any given day, with that attitude there is a rich reward waiting for them. Not a monetary reward, but the simple joy which comes from actually living life. The proverbial brass ring isn’t always even tangible. I understand that not everyone has the good fortune to have the ocean so near at hand. However, there are pockets of beauty and wonder everywhere. There are sunrises and sunset everywhere. There are perfect flowers and majestic trees and dew-covered spider webs everywhere. The secret of enjoying life to the fullest isn’t about where you are, but who you are. It isn’t about what we see, but how we see. You can never find happiness or experience joy by simply being in the right place; physically or financially, or whatever. It’s about being a person who is willing to experience happiness and joy, being willing to go out and look for it … wherever you are.

So I challenge you to ask that question. “Well God, what have you got in store for me today?” Ask that question and then get out of bed or off of your comfy chair or away from your desk for a little while, and then go look for the answer. Me? I hiked to the end of the jetty, and I wasn’t disappointed. How about you?

The End of the Jetty

I hiked to the end of the jetty,
to its point, at the end of all things
In the grey of an early spring morning,
to see what the moment would bring
With the land and its worries behind me,
I gazed out over the sea
To the edge of the far horizon,
letting my mind wander free
The surf rose and crashed about me,
breaking, it seemed, at my feet
Flooding my morning with thunder
and the spray that I find so sweet
The bell buoy clanged out its cadence
as it tossed in irregular swells
While the seals who perched upon it
called out to me, “all is well”
Countless sea gulls serenaded,
swooping or bobbing nearby
A curious pelican joined me,
then sized me up eye to eye
A pod of dolphins meandered past,
not more than a stone’s throw away
But they took their leave and swam on
after bidding me a good day
Starfish clung to the rocks below,
in patches of orange and red
As the relentless waves strove doggedly
to dislodge them from their bed
Sea lions worked the edge of my perch,
as the bait fish darted and dashed
In their timeless dance with predators,
while the ocean foamed and crashed
Down in the depths the brilliant orange
of garibaldi could be seen
Among the restless arms of kelp
which fringed the waters green
All this I observed on that morning
and the images flood my head
Such beauty and wonder savored
while most folks were still warm in bed
But I hiked to the end of the jetty,
by myself in the earliest grey
To let the ocean wash over my soul,
and usher in a glorious day
             By Frank Carpenter ©

The Art of Living

I’m attending a birthday event tonight for a friend who is a painter. In his honor, and at his request, everyone is encouraged to bring some expression of their own creativity to share. Looking forward to see what the night has to offer because this is a very creative group … seriously above average.  Naturally, I’ve composed a poem to recite in his honor. As I pondered what to write I was struck by the fact that we, as image-bearers of our Creator, are naturally inclined to creativity. Though mediums vary dramatically, we all express this part of our God-given character in some way. I would encourage and challenge each of my readers to consider how this occurs in your own life. Consider, also, that each day of your life has the potential to be a masterpiece as well. Here is my poem for the day:

The Art of Living

As we create, our art captures life
Though, at times, life imitates art
Our minds may direct the pen or brush
Yet the voice behind each is the heart
Though mediums vary, we’re born to create
Whether we paint, sculpt, bake or sing
For we are the dutiful image-bearers
Of the Creator of everything
We are fearfully, wonderfully made
The very masterpieces of He
Who sculpted mountains, painted the sky
Poured the waters into the sea
So whether we wield cameras or brushes
Work in wood or flowers or clay
The character of our Creator
Finds expression though us each day
Composers and dancers please Him
Musicians echo His praise
Each creative beat of our hearts
Worships the Maestro in untold ways
We create because the Creator
Has Himself our lives imbued
With color, with texture and beauty
Light, depth, perspective and mood
We must discover our mediums
As each interprets his Master’s call
And even life itself is an art form
Perhaps the loftiest one of all
As we work out our existence
In both new and creative ways
We manifest the Master’s character
Throughout the course of our days
Filling the canvas before us
With all that we have to give
For the greatest masterpiece of all
May simply be a life well-lived
              By Frank Carpenter ©

Gethsemane

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

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

Grace Undeserved

We all have people in our lives who need our help, and who need our grace. They could be people with large or small problems. They might be family members, friends, or even the strangers that God occasionally sends our way. One thing is always true though:  if you care about people, if you put yourself out there, you are going to get hurt sometimes. Your heart will be broken, or at least bruised, and that is just a part of life. In fact, the more you care the more likely you are to be hurt because when we open up our hearts is when we are most vulnerable. And it’s easy to write people off, or to give up on them. In fact, when folks need us the most is when they are also most likely to offend us … and that is the challenge, dear friends.

As a Christian my example is Jesus, who showed me so much more grace than I could have ever deserved. His love for me, and for you by the way, has no basis whatsoever in my deserving it. Indeed, rather than being based upon any inherent value in me, His love is actually what gives me value. God could have given up on me. He could have written me off when I offended Him, and turned His back on me when I turned my back on Him. Instead He sent His Son to die for my sins and draw me into eternal relationship with Him. That is the meaning of grace, and one of the foundations of Christianity. This morning in church we sang a song entitled One Thing Remains, the chorus of which repeats the words, “Your love never fails, never gives up, never runs out on me.” That captures the spirit of grace beautifully, and that kind of love must, by nature, trickle down into our human relationships.

So what about those people in my life, the ones who need my help … and my grace? If I am the recipient of so much undeserved grace how can I possibly withhold it from others, especially when my love and grace may actually be, at least in part, the manifestation of God’s grace to them? I have to love them and offer them the kind of grace that I have received.  So think about your own life. Who are you getting ready to write off or give up on? Better yet, who do you feel called to love and show grace to?  

Here’s what I know for sure. I’ve received way more grace than I’ll ever be able to reciprocate. But I’m going to do my best and I call upon you to join me. Together, and with God’s help, we can change this hurting world.

Grace Undeserved

In a moment of frustration
I was ready to declare
“That’s it, I quit, let’s walk away
It just hurts too much to care”
But then God calmed my spirit
As He soothed me patiently
And I realized I can’t give up
Even when folks challenge me
Because my Lord and my example
Had the chance to walk away
He could have left me to my sins
And God knows where I’d be today
But He didn’t quit, He didn’t judge
He didn’t abandon me
Though I was utterly undeserving
Jesus still chose Calvary
So when I seem at wit’s end
With those I’m called to serve
I remember that the grace I’ve known
Was not what I deserve
So give me strength, oh Savior
And remind me constantly
That I must love as You loved
The ones entrusted to me
           By Frank Carpenter ©

For more on this subject check out this previous blog entry as well:  http://frankcarpenter.blogspot.com/2005/02/forgiveness

A New Beginning

As we come to the brink of another new year, it’s a time to reflect upon the past and look forward to the future as well. If you had a great year then you’re probably hoping to maintain your momentum. Maybe 2011 fell below your expectations. If that’s the case, then a new year may hold the promise of a fresh start or a do-over. The wonderful thing about this life we live is that no one’s path is set in concrete, no destiny is yet determined, and every day offers the opportunity to change our course and adjust our sails. In that spirit, I offer the following essay as an encouragement to anyone who looks ahead to a different or brighter tomorrow. As I close I am reminded of a familiar chorus from the musical Annie which reminds us, “Tomorrow. Tomorrow. I love you, tomorrow. You’re only a day away.” That’s just what I was thinking.

A Ring Around The Moon
By Frank Carpenter
The iridescent moon was not quite full, though seeming somehow larger than usual... almost as if it filled the entire evening sky. And then there was the ring, that big beautiful ring around the moon. Not a small ring like halo or a belt. No, a giant, endless, wonderful ring. For that moment, the ring seemed to encircle all that I knew or could imagine. For that moment, the moon and the universe within the ring which enveloped it were everything. The silver sky, or something within it, held me entranced, as it were, for a time unmeasured, or immeasurable. Perhaps I lay there only for a moment, an instant, though it might just as well have been a lifetime.
Nonetheless, I felt as though everything changed during the encounter. That conclusion was unmistakable. The winds of change blew over me. Silently, sweetly, certainly. They were not such winds as I could detect merely with my senses, or which disturbed so much as a single blade of grass around me. They were were the winds which blow through our souls and swirl within our very being, the winds of inner change.
The moon was still there, and very much so. The ring was still there. Yet, suddenly, I became aware of other things around me. Other things which had long cried out to be noticed, to be understood. Whose voices had been carried away by other winds and drowned out by more urgent voices. Yet now I saw, I felt, I knew.
I became aware of the ground beneath me. How long had I lay there, in the wet grass beneath the moon and its ring? Ah, the ring. It had been raining for days. The ground was wet, more than wet. It more held me than supported me, but the feeling was not unpleasant. The grip of the wet ground against my back, against my long soaked clothing was a comfort, almost a relief. Without the pull of the moist earth, I might well have drifted off toward the moon above, lured by the intoxicating glow.
I could feel more than just the ground beneath me. There was more, much more. There was a whole world. The same world I had always known, yet which now seemed strange and wild and undiscovered. That was the change. I could no longer accept everything which before had been so clear, so concrete. I knew the world had not changed in the least, but I had. So, in relation to me, everything else must change as well. I inhaled deeply. Not the kind of breath which merely replenished oxygen in my lungs. I inhaled something better, deeper. It was a breath of life, of things so long left undone, unsaid, unknown. I was different.
However, I understood somehow that I could not be different alone. I must make the world around me to be different like me, or with me. Was it a calling? Perhaps more of an accepting. The acceptance of a call so long unheeded, one nearly snuffed out in the shuffle of daily life with its minutia of urgent details begging to be attended to. We get so busy with living that it becomes something less than living. I had forgotten how important every minute detail is. I had forgotten how very important life is. Now, I remembered.
All of this happened within the circle which held me through that time. The ring around the moon. Just an optical illusion, water vapor, reflected light, barometric pressure. Perhaps. Moon dust and magic are, however, somehow more appealing. A sign, a signal, a catalyst. It was enough. For whatever reason, I would never be the same. I could not, nor could anything else be. Blame it on the ring, the moon, the movie, romance, whatever. The world, the universe, were entirely different than they had been just a short time before. It matters not the reason, for the why and the hows only serve themselves, yet they would be our masters if we tarry long enough to let them enslave us. No, there are other more pressing issues at hand ... broader frontiers yet undiscovered. Let it begin.

May you have a blessed New Year ... and make it an even better one than the last.

God With Us

One last thought before we get to Christmas weekend. There are a lot of distractions this time of year. But let us all remember that the root word of Christmas is Christ. That is what we celebrate. So here's my take on the Christmas story based upon one of the names Isaiah foretold for the Messaiah. Emmanuel means "God with us" and that is exactly what Christmas is about ... about God choosing to be with us, to love us, and ultimately to redeem us. Merry Christmas to all!

 

Emmanuel

For centuries, we were in darkness

And God seemed so far away

But, in compassion, He reached out

To the world on Christmas day

Keeping his promise to rescue us

And bless man through Abraham’s seed

God offered the olive branch of a Savior

Showing His faithfulness indeed

After four hundred years of silence

God chose to among us dwell

Clothing Himself in human flesh

As the long awaited Immanuel

That is really what Christmas means

Not presents or trees nor snow

But the mighty God of the universe

Reaching out to men below

Immanuel means “God with us”

As the prophet Isaiah foretold

And the angel in Joseph’s dream confirmed

The messiah God promised of old

Jesus was born and laid in the manger

So long ago and far away

But that was just the beginning

And He is with us still today

As the victorious, risen Savior

Whom the Christ child grew into

Sent to reconcile men to God

And, at last, make all things new

So when you celebrate your Christmas

We pray you remember well

How God sent His only Son to us

As our Savior, Immanuel

     By Frank Carpenter       

Days of Infamy

Today is Pearl Harbor Day. Most of our parents and grandparents remember right where they were when they heard the news of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. Those of us who are at least a generation away simply remember the poignant opening words of President Roosevelt’s speech to Congress: “Yesterday, December 7th 1941, a day which will live in infamy...” That attack drew the United States into World War II and the rest is history. As I considered this day, however, I realized that those of us who missed WWII recently had the opportunity to experience what Pearl Harbor felt like to the average American. That is because we lived through September 11, 2001. Like Pearl Harbor, that day brought an unprovoked surprise attack on American soil, resulting in a similar number of deaths. We experienced the shock, the sorrow and, eventually, the rise of an anger which cried out for justice. Perhaps all the more so because the September 11th attacks were primarily against civilians. Also, due to our modern technology, virtually every American repeatedly saw the news footage of the planes striking the World Trade Center and the collapse of the towers. So today is a day to think back over the years, to remember the events of 1941 and how they changed the course of history. I would encourage us to remember 2001 as well, for it evokes the same feelings and the war it sparked is still under way. That war is not just one of armed conflict, but a war of ideologies which will help to shape the next fifty years of history. As we look back on those two days, I offer a pair of poems which return us to that roller coaster of emotions. I wrote them both on September 11, while sitting at my desk that morning and watching the endless reruns of the images that terrible day brought to us. Below the poems, you will also find the entire text of FDR’s famous speech to Congress on December 8, 1941. I believe you may discover the emotions expressed therein to be familiar, even if you weren’t born yet. I daresay that “Happy Pearl Harbor Day” is most likely an inappropriate greeting to offer you, being something of an oxymoron. Nonetheless, I do encourage you to think long and hard on this day in history and take it’s lessons to heart as we march forward in the creation of our own current history. Every once in a great while there is a “day of infamy” ... and they must never be forgotten.

Somewhere in the Rubble
Somewhere in the rubble
At this moment, there are tears
Suffering we can’t imagine
The very worst of all our fears
Calamity in such proportion
That we can scarcely comprehend
Hours of darkness, just beginning
And we have yet to know their end
But somewhere in the rubble
In that city far away
Thousands still are clinging
To a thread of hope today
Our hearts are filled with anger
With bitter shock and with dismay
But let us not forget this hour
To pause and simply pray
For those who are in peril
And their would be rescuers
That God somehow may protect them
Give them strength to yet endure
That He might comfort those with loss
Give wisdom to the leaders there
And wrap His arms around this nation
In our hour of despair
Let us lift our prayers together
As we struggle just to cope
For somewhere in the rubble
There is still a ray of hope
By Frank Carpenter ©

The Heart of Freedom
Beware, you foes of freedom
Who dare to maim and kill
Who, by force, would stand against us
You have galvanized our will
You have struck the heart of freedom
Spilled sacred blood upon our soil
Stung the bastions of democracy
Yet, though we may recoil
Be it known, we shall not falter
In the midst of travesty
A sleeping giant has awakened
Which will rise from the debris
With a resolve and with a fury
Such as you have rarely known
Freedom’s mettle has been tested
And now its true strength shall be shown
By Frank Carpenter ©\

FDR’s Speech to Congress on December 8, 1941: "Yesterday, Dec. 7, 1941 - a date which will live in infamy - the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan. The United States was at peace with that nation and, at the solicitation of Japan, was still in conversation with the government and its emperor looking toward the maintenance of peace in the Pacific.

Indeed, one hour after Japanese air squadrons had commenced bombing in Oahu, the Japanese ambassador to the United States and his colleagues delivered to the Secretary of State a formal reply to a recent American message. While this reply stated that it seemed useless to continue the existing diplomatic negotiations, it contained no threat or hint of war or armed attack. It will be recorded that the distance of Hawaii from Japan makes it obvious that the attack was deliberately planned many days or even weeks ago. During the intervening time, the Japanese government has deliberately sought to deceive the United States by false statements and expressions of hope for continued peace. The attack yesterday on the Hawaiian islands has caused severe damage to American naval and military forces. Very many American lives have been lost. In addition, American ships have been reported torpedoed on the high seas between San Francisco and Honolulu. Yesterday, the Japanese government also launched an attack against Malaya. Last night, Japanese forces attacked Hong Kong. Last night, Japanese forces attacked Guam. Last night, Japanese forces attacked the Philippine Islands. Last night, the Japanese attacked Wake Island. This morning, the Japanese attacked Midway Island.

Japan has, therefore, undertaken a surprise offensive extending throughout the Pacific area. The facts of yesterday speak for themselves. The people of the United States have already formed their opinions and well understand the implications to the very life and safety of our nation.

As commander in chief of the Army and Navy, I have directed that all measures be taken for our defense. Always will we remember the character of the onslaught against us. No matter how long it may take us to overcome this premeditated invasion, the American people in their righteous might will win through to absolute victory. I believe I interpret the will of the Congress and of the people when I assert that we will not only defend ourselves to the uttermost, but will make very certain that this form of treachery shall never endanger us again.

Hostilities exist. There is no blinking at the fact that our people, our territory and our interests are in grave danger. With confidence in our armed forces - with the unbounding determination of our people - we will gain the inevitable triumph - so help us God. I ask that the Congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, Dec. 7, a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese empire."

From site: http://odur.let.rug.nl/~usa/P/fr32/speeches/ph.htm

Information

I stumbled upon a quote recently from Albert Einstein which intrigued me: “Information is not knowledge.” This is a very profound statement by a man who was one of the great minds of the twentieth century and it got me thinking as well. I’m clearly not one of the great minds of either of the centuries I’ve lived in, but I had been pondering a similar subject of late. There is now so much information available to us, not just from books but also through our easy access to the nearly limitless data coffers of the internet. In fact, Einstein himself would probably be overwhelmed by how much we know … and can know. He missed the computer age by just a decade or two and the world has changed so much since then. However, I’m not here to sing the “aren’t we amazing” song. My interest today lies not in expounding our informational achievements, but in quantifying the value of the volume thereof. Especially in light of the advances in handheld wireless devices we have more information at our fingertips than we could previously even have imagined ... and we’re obsessed with it. The issue I see developing is that we seem to revel in accessing a broad spectrum of data, of facts, figures, news, opinion, history, gossip, technology, etc. However, I don’t always see it improving the quality of our lives, nor the value of our lives. This leads us to the next question. Fortunately, it was previously posed by someone more intelligent and articulate than me. The poet and critic T. S. Elliot once wrote, “Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge? Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?” Interestingly Elliot also died just a decade or two before the true computer age. Yet he, like Einstein, observed this phenomenon as early as the mid twentieth century. They both understood that just knowing things, and having access information, does not make us better as people, or as a society.

So for clarification, let me take Elliot’s wise words and condense them to a formula that Einstein may have appreciated:

           INFORMATION ≠ KNOWLEDGE ≠ WISDOM
In the spirit of the information age I myself went to the internet in search of a way to express my train of thought. I found an article on foundationsmag.com that helped clarify the difference between these three words. “What is this elusive quality called wisdom? How do we get it? … let’s begin taking a look at the four levels of thinking.

The first level is data-simple facts and figures. Second we have information. Information is data that’s been collected and organized. It is a reference tool. Something we turn to when trying to create something else. The third is knowledge. This is information that we have digested and now understand. Organized as knowledge, the information we have collected is given context. The fourth and final level is wisdom. Today, wisdom has become for many, indistinguishable from knowledge. But they are two different things. Often, what we find touted as wisdom is simply opinion. Knowledge is not wisdom. There is a big difference. Wisdom is the proper use of knowledge. To be more precise, wisdom is knowledge that has been applied in a way that takes into account all its pertinent relationships and that is consistent with universal laws.”

That’s exactly what I meant to say. There is an undercurrent of belief that our technology, our education, and the sheer data we posses makes us somehow better than our predecessors or those in third world countries. I’m not so sure because sometimes it seems that we have become dependent upon information, requiring larger and more convenient doses to satisfy us. That’s why it is important to differentiate between information, knowledge and wisdom. We may have become more technologically advanced, but it’s not clear that we have advanced morally or ethically, that we have grown in wisdom or character or virtue. These are the real measurements of better people or an elevated society. Our access to unlimited information does provide tools for actually making us better people, but so often they are lost in such an expansive mine of data that it can be difficult to dig out the nuggets that are really worth finding. There are just too many distractions, and as is the case in so many areas of our lives the good and the interesting tend to distract us from the great and the truly valuable. Thus we become, in a sense, intellectually ADD.

So, my friends, I would encourage us all not merely to fill our minds, but to improve our minds, not to mention our hearts and souls. Consider what would actually make you a better person, a better husband, father, mother, friend or citizen. Too much information without purpose actually makes us shallower rather than deeper. Wise Solomon once wrote: “Blessed is the man who finds wisdom, the man who gains understanding.” (Proverbs 3:13) Those would be fine words to live by, and they shed encouraging light on this subject. The secret to life lies not in what we know, but how we know it … and what we do with it.

Have a Little Faith

I had the pleasure and unique opportunity this afternoon to interview Brad Moore, president of Hallmark Hall of Fame Productions for the past twenty-nine years. We discussed their latest movie, Mitch Albom’s Have a Little Faith which premiers this Sunday, November 27, on the ABC Television Network. (9:00-11:00 ET) The movie is based upon Mitch Albom’s best-selling book of the same name, his first nonfiction work since Tuesdays With Morrie. Albom also wrote the screenplay and played a big part in the production. When I asked Brad what was so special about this film he replied, “It’s a wonderful story of redemption … a true story of regaining faith and overcoming cynicism.” That sounds to me like the kind of story we all need to hear. The synopsis from Albom’s web site seems to capture the beautiful dichotomy of this story best:

"Have a Little Faith begins with an unusual request: an 82-year-old rabbi from Albom’s old hometown asks him to deliver his eulogy. Feeling unworthy, Albom insists on understanding the man better, which throws him back into a world of faith he’d left years ago. Meanwhile, closer to his current home, Albom becomes involved with a Detroit pastor-a reformed drug dealer and convict-who preaches to the poor and homeless in a decaying church with a hole in its roof. Moving between their worlds, Christian and Jewish, African-American and white, impoverished and well-to-do, Mitch observes how these very different men employ faith similarly in fighting for survival: the older, suburban rabbi, embracing it as death approaches; the younger, inner-city pastor relying on it to keep himself and his church afloat. As America struggles with hard times and people turn more to their beliefs, Mitch and the two men of God explore issues that perplex modern man: how to endure when difficult things happen; what heaven is; intermarriage; forgiveness; doubting God; and the importance of faith in trying times … Have a Little Faith is a book about a life’s purpose; about losing belief and finding it again; about the divine spark inside us all. It is one man’s journey, but it is everyone’s story.”

This is just the kind of inspirational story we have come to expect from Hallmark Hall of Fame, but it’s also brought to life through an amazing all-star cast. Laurence Fishburne plays Henry Covington, a Detroit preacher who overcame a life of drugs and crime. Martin Landau is the aging New Jersey Rabbi, Albert Lewis, the spiritual and cultural counterpart to Covington. In the middle is Mitch Albom, played by Bradley Whitford. Covington’s wife, Annette is portrayed by Anika Noni Rose. There is every indication that the chemistry between these outstanding actors perfectly compliments Albom’s already very personal story in a way that gleans all the emotion and meaning from his original words. In the case of a writer as gifted as Albom that’s a very tall order to fill, but they definitely do.

In the words of Brad Moore, Have a Little Faith is “deeply moving … and very satisfying.” Brad’s excitement about this film was definitely contagious and I’m truly looking forward to seeing it this Sunday evening. I would encourage my readers to do the same. I believe it promises a welcome and insightful look at two relevant versions of faith that we should all understand better, but it is also a wonderful launching point for further and deeper conversations. That’s why it would be a good movie to watch with either friends or family. It offers something beyond mere entertainment value. The very title is intriguing to us, especially in these difficult times, and it promises some hope to people that they might discover something within themselves, or beyond themselves. Without a doubt many on either end of the religious spectrum will find some spiritual shortcomings or feel like they may have been underrepresented. But this isn’t a film about doctrine or about whose faith is the right one. It acknowledges a higher power in a way that can appeal to a broad audience. It’s a starting point to get your own intellectual, spiritual and emotion gears turning. That’s one of the reasons I believe it has so much value. Watch it with an open mind and an open heart. Then talk about it. Just as Mitch Albom finds himself in the middle, between two faiths, many people in our society find themselves in the middle as well. That’s a good starting place for anyone … so share it with someone.

It’s been a pleasure for me to learn about this inspirational story and the people involved in it. Many thanks to Brad Moore, of Hallmark Hall of Fame, for taking the time to speak with me this afternoon, and to Grace Hill Media for making that possible. Remember that Have a Little Faith airs this Sunday evening on ABC. Every once in a while a story comes along that tugs at our hearts, one that supports traditional values and challenges all of us to take our eyes off of ourselves for a few hours and to look up together. This is one of those stories. I could not think of a better way to close today than to simply encourage all of you to just … Have a Little Faith.

The Call of God

Today I’d like to share a poem which I actually employed here once before, way back in 2004. But I came across a quote this week that re-framed the context of it for me. One of the things I enjoy about my poetry, and the written word in general, it that it has a long shelf life and God continually finds new uses for it. I had picked up the book “Wild at Heart” once again and opened to a page containing the following quote from Oswald Chambers:

“There comes the baffling call of God in our lives also. The call of God can never be stated explicitly, it is implicit. The call of God is like the call of the sea; no one hears it but the one who has the nature of the sea in him. It cannot be stated definitely what the call of God is to, because his call is to be in comradeship with himself for his own purposes, and the test is to believe that God knows what He is after.”

As my readers may know I have a clear affinity for the sea, or as Chambers so eloquently put it, “the nature of the sea” in me. So this quote speaks directly to my heart. I’m also reminded that we have a creative God who speaks to each man in a still small voice that is personalized to that man’s heart. In my case, God used the sea. But He might just as well speak to the engineer in practical terms, to the geologist through the physical world, or to the astronomer through the skies. Whoever we are, wherever we are, whatever we are going through, God speaks to us in a voice that our heart will best understand. Bible translators are committed to their work because they understand that God may speak most effectively to people in their native tongue. And God knows every language, not only the written and verbal languages of men, but the unwritten languages of the human heart as well. So if you seek to hear God listen to him in your unique areas of passion and openness. Most importantly though, listen for God and be open to His call. He is almost never silent. The problem is that we are far too often deaf.

So now I shall return to my own example. There was a time when I didn’t even believe there was a God. However, it was clear to me that something was going on because I understood that some of the people who professed to believe in him were different than other people I knew. So I sought them out. Yet, God understood that the only way to get through to me was to speak to me in the language of my heart. I have always loved the ocean and God wisely engaged that passion in order to engage me. The below poem explains to true story of my conversion and the creative and personal way in which God eventually got through to me.

I still try to be open to God’s calling, especially in this current season of my life. My question for each of you today is, “How is God speaking to you?” We need to continue listening for His voice, not merely with our ears, but with our hearts as well.

Out of the Depths
I feel so very small sometimes
when I look upon the sea
Imagining its vast expanse
its awesome power and majesty
The sea was my one first true love
and the thing that I adored
The wonder of it pierced my heart
and brought me to my Lord
For I would not believe in God
or trust that He could be
However those who claimed I should
sought to prevail upon me
Their arguments were well rehearsed
and true enough, I deemed
But I required something more
I lacked the key it seemed
Yet, God called upon His advocate
the mighty sea I loved so dear
Which softened up my heart in time
and sought to draw me near
How many times He called to me
as I sat upon the land
In a thundering voice I could not hear
but longed to understand
Countless nights I sat alone
and gazed across the sea
So unaware that every wave
was God's own call to me
Yet God wore down my disbelief
as ocean waves might do
And brought me to the moment when
my life-long search was through
He piloted my restless soul
to quiet waters and a quay
Where He came aboard my empty heart
and promised He would stay
And now, all these year later
I pause to look out on the swells
And thank God for the choice He brought me to
for it has served me well
I thank Him for the beauty
and the power of the sea
From which He chose to reach out
and take hold of such as me
May I ever gaze upon it and
in so doing, see His face
Rediscovering His majesty
and the wonder of His grace
        By Frank Carpenter ©

To Live the Life

We all have standards that we live by, or seek to live up to. Everyone believes in something, whether it’s God, people, a moral compass, or a commitment to some universal truths. According to whatever code we subscribe to, we tend to live in a certain manner. The interesting thing is that not everyone lives according to what they profess. I’m certainly not one to judge because I’m just as “human” as anyone else, but take a look at all the people you know and most of us fall short of our own words in some way. The other interesting thing about this line of thinking is that our lives actually tell, and sometimes even betray, what we actually believe. In other words, what we do provides the forensic evidence for examining what we say and what we believe. The best test of any credo is a life of living it.

I for one believe in God and desire, in the words of the Apostle Paul, “to live a life worthy of the calling to which I have been called.” I encourage you to take a serious look at what you say you believe and how it has proved out in your daily life. In the meantime I will take the liberty of offering my own credo in the form of the following poem.

To Live the Life
Lord, I want to live the life
Which you have called me to
To follow you wholeheartedly
Rather than just muddle through
Lord, I want to be your servant
Each moment of each day
And not just on Sunday mornings
Please, Lord, show me the way
To be true to you regardless
Of the cost that I must that must bear
To trust you with my future
To always love and care
Lord, teach me how to sacrifice
To worship and to pray
To be a shining light for you
In all I do and say
May I be a fragrant offering
Bringing glory, Lord, to you
For I desire to live the life
Which you have called me to
          By Frank Carpenter ©

Simple Pleasures

In our modern world of lightening communication, high definition video, and immediate gratification we have become accustomed to a host of stimuli which were unknown only a couple of decades ago. Now we tend to build up a resistance to entertainment, requiring ever-increasing does of it to satisfy us. Such pleasures increasingly fall prey to the law of diminishing returns. But when we step back and survey the true pleasures in life they still turn out to be the simple ones. While we may be temporarily wowed by our own creations, in the end most of us respond best to those things which we did not create. It’s been my good fortune to spend some extended time out of doors in recent weeks, which has enabled me to rediscover my own response to beauty and nature. During that time my life has also been very relational, reminding me how much I enjoy the company of others. I have, in short, reconnected with the simple pleasures in my life, the responsive joy which I believe is inherently a part of our identity. There’s just no telling what you may discover if you can just turn off the television, disconnect the computer, power down the cell phone, and simply get outdoors. Whether your backdrop is the ocean, the mountains, the desert, the plains, or even the tiny park at the end of the street, something special awaits you there. You don’t need a grand adventure with a bunch of equipment. You don’t need to take a week’s vacation. You just need to step outside without an agenda. Watch the sunset, smell some flowers, take a walk on the beach, or just observe a tree swaying in the breeze. And if you can share the experience with some like-minded person then all the better. The point is to break the monotony, turn off the electronics, and live a little differently … even if it’s only for a short time.

We often grow so accustomed to being entertained that we lose track of just being. So take a weekend, a day, an hour, a moment. Take some time to live, and look for some of the simple pleasures in life, I guarantee that you won’t be disappointed.

Simple Pleasures
When I survey my daily life
I find the simplest of things
Are what matter to me most of all
And the greatest pleasure bring
The morning sun upon my face
The song of birds nearby
The trees which dance upon the breeze
Every moment, a small surprise
The countless blessings on my path
Which greet me all the while
The quiet feeling deep within
That wells into a smile
Life is dotted with experience
And there are moments grand and fine
But the simple things that touch my heart
Bring a sense of the divine
                  By Frank Carpenter ©

Change & Growth

My granddaughter just turned one this past weekend. As I’ve observed her over the recent months I never cease to be amazed at how she quickly she grows and changes. In fact, at her age change is the norm. She recently learned to walk, she has babbled her first words, and she is absorbing life like a cute little sponge. For her, literally everything is new and fascinating and exciting. All of this has gotten me thinking about how different our “adult” lives are from hers. Obviously we all stop growing taller at some point, but somewhere along the way many people also reach an age of equilibrium where they stop growing intellectually and emotionally as well. We settle down, get comfortable, and begin to shun change. This can be a dangerous thing, for once our hearts and minds become less pliable they begin to atrophy. In short, we remain the same. In my opinion this has at least the perceived effect of aging us. Another interesting side-effect of this common condition is that we begin to judge others who may choose not to stay the same as us. That is a defense mechanism which helps to justify our own position. Is this who we wish to be? When I was in the middle of writing this, I stumbled across the following thoughts in Sarah Young’s devotional: “Without any conscious awareness, they make their habitual responses. People who live this way find a dullness creeping into their lives. They sleepwalk through their days, following well-worn paths of routine. God, the Creator of the universe, is the most creative Being imaginable. He will not leave you circling in deeply rutted paths. Instead, He will lead you along fresh trails of adventure, revealing to you things you did not know.” What a great perspective.

Newton’s first law of motion states that a body in rest tends to stay at rest, and a body in motion tends to stay in motion. Do we want to stay at rest, or in motion? Stability and security are a comfort, but they can also put us into bondage as we fight to main maintain and protect them. I, for one, desire something more. One of my grown children mentioned a while back that I was very predictable. It may even have been intended as a compliment, but I want to be just a bit unpredictable. I want to be interesting. Why not be adventurous once in a while? I’ve always appreciated C.S. Lewis’ description of the lion, Aslon. “Is he safe? No … but he is good.” That offers some food for thought because we are entirely too safe. I earnestly desire my character, faith and integrity to be consistent. However, my goal is for those qualities to manifest themselves creatively and dynamically so that they provide inspiration rather than justifying a rut.

What do you want for your own life? Are you too predictable? Do you want to be? I, for one, desire something more than a steady, quite suburban life. We need to keep changing and growing and responding. Let us not put down the roots of comfort and complacency so deeply that we become as immovable trees. We should never consider ourselves as done or complete. Each life is a work in progress. Each person is also a work in progress. So, like my granddaughter, we need to let go, lean forward, and see where our feet take us. That is what life if all about.

Memorial Day

This weekend is Memorial Day. This is the day each year when we, as a nation, celebrate the mortal sacrifices of our service men and women who have lost their lives in defense of this great nation. The exact origin of this tradition remains a little unclear, but it certainly grew out of the Civil War and some type of official celebration began shortly thereafter. At first it was Decoration Day, when the graves of fallen soldiers were decorated to honor them. Then it seems to have grown from there. For those of you interested in such history, I have pasted below what seems to be the actual history of Memorial Day for your further reading. At this time, however, I only wish to encourage any who read these words to remember those who have paid the ultimate price for the freedoms we all enjoy. Remember, also, that brave American men and women are out their risking their lives at this very moment on our behalf. I will not here endeavor to engage anyone on the politics of our current conflicts overseas, except to state our countrymen have died there and continue to live in harm’s way so they, both the living and the dead, deserve all of our honor, respect and support. Today is the day to hang up your flag, to say a prayer, perhaps even make a phone call or write a letter to those who have lost loved ones … or live daily with the fear thereof. Please don’t let this day pass without some act or thought of patriotism and gratitude. To that end, I offer the following poem in honor of those who paid the ultimate price for this great nation and our personal liberties.

Song of Freedom
Still ringing are the battle cries
Of freedom from the past
Sung out by brave young men who spilled
Their blood and breathed their last
Still waving is the flag
They proudly served and held aloft
Yet, we must be ever wary
Lest our resolve grows dim and soft
Our children need to know the legacy
Of freedom which is theirs
As the gauntlet passes on to them
For they are freedom's heirs
Sons and daughters of a liberty
Which was born of trial and strife
Paid for dearly by the countless men
Who gave both limb and life
We must keep the fire burning
May we never let it die
So our children's children's children
Know the sound of freedom's cry
It's not enough to just be born here
We have to guard our liberty
And pass it on so generations
In the future will be free
          By Frank Carpenter ©

Memorial Day, originally called Decoration Day, is a day of remembrance for those who have died in our nation's service. There are many stories as to its actual beginnings, with over two dozen cities and towns laying claim to being the birthplace of Memorial Day. There is also evidence that organized women's groups in the South were decorating graves before the end of the Civil War: a hymn published in 1867, "Kneel Where Our Loves are Sleeping" by Nella L. Sweet carried the dedication "To The Ladies of the South who are Decorating the Graves of the Confederate Dead" (Source: Duke University's Historic American Sheet Music, 1850-1920). While Waterloo N.Y. was officially declared the birthplace of Memorial Day by President Lyndon Johnson in May 1966, it's difficult to prove conclusively the origins of the day. It is more likely that it had many separate beginnings; each of those towns and every planned or spontaneous gathering of people to honor the war dead in the 1860's tapped into the general human need to honor our dead, each contributed honorably to the growing movement that culminated in Gen Logan giving his official proclamation in 1868. It is not important who was the very first, what is important is that Memorial Day was established. Memorial Day is not about division. It is about reconciliation; it is about coming together to honor those who gave their all.

Memorial Day was officially proclaimed on 5 May 1868 by General John Logan, national commander of the Grand Army of the Republic, in his General Order No. 11, and was first observed on 30 May 1868, when flowers were placed on the graves of Union and Confederate soldiers at Arlington National Cemetery. The first state to officially recognize the holiday was New York in 1873. By 1890 it was recognized by all of the northern states. The South refused to acknowledge the day, honoring their dead on separate days until after World War I (when the holiday changed from honoring just those who died fighting in the Civil War to honoring Americans who died fighting in any war). It is now celebrated in almost every State on the last Monday in May (passed by Congress with the National Holiday Act of 1971 (P.L. 90 - 363) to ensure a three day weekend for Federal holidays), though several southern states have an additional separate day for honoring the Confederate war dead: January 19 in Texas, April 26 in Alabama, Florida, Georgia, and Mississippi; May 10 in South Carolina; and June 3 (Jefferson Davis' birthday) in Louisiana and Tennessee.

Traditional observance of Memorial day has diminished over the years. Many Americans nowadays have forgotten the meaning and traditions of Memorial Day. At many cemeteries, the graves of the fallen are increasingly ignored, neglected. Most people no longer remember the proper flag etiquette for the day. While there are towns and cities that still hold Memorial Day parades, many have not held a parade in decades. Some people think the day is for honoring any and all dead, and not just those fallen in service to our country.

Information from : http://www.usmemorialday.org/backgrnd.html

Finishing Well

There is a tendency among people, especially men, to grow sour in their later years. We’ve all seen it, experienced it. This tendency comes on slowly, almost imperceptivity, then one day we suddenly notice how patience wears thin, criticism loses it constructiveness, and humor begins to bite more. The years should make us better, wiser, and more patient and more appreciative. Time should soften and improve us like a fine wine. In many cases the years do have this effect. Yet far too often we come across those who become embittered and emotionally burdensome, just when they have the experience and leisure to be the greatest blessing. And that’s what it’s all about, really. We want to love people and be loved by them. We want to leave a positive legacy for our families. Why then do so many squander the opportunity to set up as the mature fount of wisdom, the experienced confidant, and the spiritual mentor? It’s difficult to understand, because I would think that one of the loftiest goals in life should be to finish well. By this I don’t mean dying well, but living well.


Finishing well is the ultimate confirmation of a life well-lived, the litmus test of all we have professed during the previous decades. I must here clarify that I’m not speaking about money. Although these principles definitely apply thereto, finishing well financially is always subordinate in importance to the other areas of life … especially if significant sacrifices were made in order to attain a strong financial finish. In the end the comfort and security that wealth at least promises is but chaff in comparison to relational and character considerations. To me, finishing well is all about relationships: with friends, with family, with our community, and with God. Maintaining healthy relationships in each of those spheres is an indication that we understand what is truly important in life and we have sought to cultivate it. Sadly, many folks don’t think about this and turn slowly inward as their years progress, becoming ever more selfish and myopic. In time they become the aunts and uncles, parents, grandparents and friends who complain that no one ever comes to visit them. Even some people who were gregarious and generous with themselves in middle age far too often grow otherwise later on.

However, this does not have to be so. We can make choices all through our lives to keep from growing sour so that our later years can still be the most meaningful years of our lives, not only for us but also for those we care about. Even at fifty, I’ve been engaging my own friends and family members on this subject for a number of years. My plan is that if we are discussing our desire not to grow sour then we can hold one another accountable. I’m not going to wait for the people I care about to stop calling and visiting me. In fact, I’m going on the offensive because I want to be the son, father, grandpa, uncle, neighbor, and friend that I hope others will be to me. So I call, I write, I text and Facebook. I try to be proactive in every sphere of my relationships so that I’m fully engaged with people, and I encourage them to do the same. And, as I’ve written previously, I work hard to be a blessing to others, which also turns out to be the path to receiving the blessing of relationship from them. The fact is that we generally get out of life only what we put into it. This becomes even more important in our later years when we’re easier to forget or overlook. But if we make ourselves relationally indispensible then we aren’t likely to be alone. A big part of finishing well is about continuing to sow the seeds of love and joy throughout our lives, which often yields a rich harvest of happiness.

Please excuse me, but I can’t close this discussion without some mention of faith. For this is another area where I have observed people growing sour and losing heart later in live. Faith is such an important part of our existence, perhaps even the reason for our existence, that it can never be overlooked when we are reviewing the big picture of our lives. A relationship with God is much like our other relationships. It requires effort and maintenance, with a proactive approach and continued involvement in related activities. Old age isn’t a time to set the spiritual auto pilot, but a season to build upon a lifetime of faith and share our wisdom with others. It’s important that the spiritual matriarchs and patriarchs of any group or family continue to shine the light of example throughout their lives.

So however you may have started, finishing well is perhaps the most important part of life. Wherever we are, whatever we might have done, for better or for worse. We have the option of finishing well, of finishing better. However, the way we finish isn’t a choice we make at some distant point in our existence. Rather, it’s a series of choices that add up to a life well-lived … and maintaining that momentum through the final lap. May yours be such a life so that it continues to touch the lives of countless others.