Mothers Day

Let us not forget that Mothers Day is this Sunday, May 14th. This is a weekend to honor all of our mothers and their contributions to our lives and families. I have been blessed with a wonderful mother, and all the more blessed by being married to an outstanding mother as well. Come to think of it, I even lucked out in the mother-in-law category. I guess I could be said to have won the triple crown of maternal good fortune. In honor of these women who have been so instrumental in my own life and happiness, I offer the follow poem. Feel free to copy my words down if you’d like to use them to express your own feelings to one of the mothers in your life. All that I ask is that you leave my name at the bottom. That being said, some of you have perhaps not had a positive mothering experience- that certainly happens. If you fall into this category, I would still encourage you to offer something positive to your mother or step mother because they went to a great deal of trouble on your behalf and probably love you more than you know. If you can’t even bring yourself to do that, then transfer your best wishes and appreciation to another mother in your life, such as friend or an aunt, and honor their example or treatment of their own children. And what if your mother has passed away? Then I suggest that you honor her memory by sharing her story or love with your own children, nieces, nephews or someone else in your life. We can all do something for this holiday. If you’re one of those cynics who think that all holidays were invented to sell greeting cards and flowers, then don’t prove your point by being a cheapskate and short changing someone you love who’d rather have a card than join your personal protest. Make your own card, cook a big breakfast or do something else creative. The fact is that we should be appreciating mothers every day so don’t waste your opportunity to do so this weekend. In closing, I offer my biggest thanks and mushiest “I love you” to my own wife and the other mothers in my life. May your weekend be a blessed one.

Thank You
I thank you for a thousand little things
Which really aren't so small
And for the countless, thankless jobs
Which upon your shoulders fall
I thank you for the time you take
And for your energy
For the way you balance everything
And how you love the kids and me
I thank you for your gentle touch
And for your helping hand
For always being there for us
And how you seem to understand
There are times to work and cook and clean
And times to simply stop and play
Our kids know they have the funnest mom
Which you prove again each day
Somehow you find a way to do it all
Perhaps far more than you ought to
But we really do appreciate
All those extra things you do
All the things that show how very much
You love the kids and me
And I thank God most every day
For you, and our family
By Frank Carpenter ©

A Final Blessing

To my regular readers, a heartfelt apology for not having posted anything the last week or so. I’ve been a little distracted by family business, but the best kind of business of all. This past weekend our son was married in Missoula, Montana, where he is just graduating from the university. It’s difficult to write from where I am, being somewhere out on the open road between Montana and California, but for any who are interested I offer the poem which I read during the ceremony on Saturday. Usually, I edit out names and genders in my personal writings before posting them in order to broaden their appeal for my audience. However, today I offer this most personal poem just as I recited it during the beautiful outdoor wedding that meant so much to our family.

I’m sure that my family matters are of little interest to many readers. However, weddings play an important part in the life and legacy of any family and serve as valuable milestones for us. These are the times when we gather to celebrate together and renew our kinship with friends and relatives who often live far away. These moments also remind us of some of the most cherished truths in life: the value of relationships, of love and fidelity, and the spiritual aspects of our marriages. We participate as witnesses before God to mankind’s most fundamental institution and have the opportunity to rethink our own vows and what they mean to a lifelong relationship.

So today I close with a wish for all the best to Chris and Lacey as they start their new life together and a big thank you to our new in-laws, the Jacksons, for their wonderful daughter and how much she means to our family. For all the rest of us, let this be a reminder of our own vows and commitments. And wherever you find yourself on the road of life and relationships, always remember that it’s never too late to begin your own happily ever after.

A Final Blessing
All those endless months of planning
And preparing now have passed
And the moment you’ve been waiting for
Is finally here at last
The culmination of your hopes and dreams
The answer to your prayers and plans
Now, here we stand with all your friends
And family near at hand
Just one more kiss and he’ll pronounce
That you are man and wife
Then you’ll turn to walk together
Down the aisle of your life
But before you take that final walk
I feel that you should know
Just how proud we are of each of you
And how we love you so
Our blessing is upon you
Our fondest hopes, our fervent prayers
Wherever life may lead you
Our best wishes follow there
May God grant you love and patience
And a faith which casts off fears
May His Word and wisdom guide you
Through the swiftly flying years
May joy and happiness be yours
May your home a beacon be
Which shines the light of God’s love
And may He bless your family
Dearest Chris and Lacey
Beloved daughter, honored son
Today you leave together
Not as two, but finally one
May you never lose the wonder
Of that most profound mystery
Cherish one another always
And may God grant you unity
May His hand of blessing ever be
Upon the two of you
May every happiness be yours
To last a whole life through
By Frank Carpenter ©

Reflections on Easter Week

Well, if you’re into religious holidays, this is certainly a red letter week. We had Palm Sunday last weekend. Tonight marks the beginning of Passover. Holy Thursday is tomorrow, followed by Good Friday and Easter. Religious holidays, while good reminders of the truth, can often cloud it as well. We are so easily distracted by the food, the fun, the ritual and social aspects of any holiday that it’s easy to leave God out of such a day - even a religious event. All celebrating, church services, egg dying and palm waving aside, I would like to redirect our focus to the person of Jesus Christ, whom we truly celebrate this week. This is the week that dozens of prophetic scriptures were fulfilled through His triumphal entry into Jerusalem (Palm Sunday), his eating of the Passover, His betrayal, His mock trial, His death on the cross, and finally His resurrection. We must remember, amidst all the other hoopla, that Jesus is the Son of God, that He actually lived, actually died for our sins, and actually rose from the dead. If any of those facts are untrue, then everything else we celebrate this week is pointless and we might as well sing our hymns to the Easter Bunny. If we do not accept Jesus as our Savior and Messiah, then we are all April Fools and that would be the only relevant holiday. Let us come back to the person of Jesus Christ. A lot of dramatic and public things happened during this, the last week of His life. However, I am most deeply moved by that quiet moment after the Last Supper, and just prior to His betrayal, when 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. If you have further interest, I have pasted below a partial list of prophesies fulfilled by Jesus during the final week of His life. Have a happy Easter and don’t be an April Fool.

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

Partial list of Prophesies Fulfilled During the Final Week of Jesus’ Life:
Triumphal entry in Jerusalem on a donkey
Zechariah 9:9, Mark 11:7–8, John 12:13–15

Betrayed by a friend
Psalm 41:9, Mark 14:10, 43–45

Betrayed for 30 pieces of silver
Zechariah 11:12, Matthew 26:15

Betrayal money returned for a potter’s field
Zechariah 11:13, Matthew 27:3–10

Accused by false witnesses
Psalm 27:12, Matthew 26:60–61, Mark 14:57

Offers no defense
Isaiah 53:7, Matthew 26:62–63, Matthew 27:12–14

Struck and spat upon
Isaiah 50:6, Matthew 26:67, Mark 14:65, John 19:1–3

Hated without reason
Psalm 109:3–5, John 15:24–25

Soldiers divide His garments and gamble for His clothing
Psalm 22:18, Matthew 27:35

Pierced through hands and feet
Zechariah 12:10, Luke 23:33, John 20:27

Executed with malefactors
Isaiah 53:12, Mark 15:27–28

Agonized in thirst
Psalm 22:15, John 19:28

Given gall and vinegar
Psalm 69:21, Matthew 27:34, 48, John 19:29

No bones broken
Psalm 34:20, John 19:32–36

His side pierced
Zechariah 12:10b, John 19:34

Buried with the rich
Isaiah 53:9, Matthew 27:57–60

Deserted by His followers
Zechariah 13:7, Mark 14:27,Matthew 26:56

Resurrection
Hosea 6:2, Psalm 16:10, Psalm 49:15, Luke 24:6–7

Ascension to Heaven
Psalm 68:18, Luke 24:50–51, Acts 1:11, Ephesians 4:7–10

Counterfeit

As I survey the world we share it becomes quite evident that things are often not as they would seem. In fact, our modern world is full of counterfeits which give us false impressions of beauty and value and skew our thinking in many important areas of life. Perhaps the biggest culprit is our beloved media, which offers movies, television and music for entertainment and enjoyment. These mediums, however, all proffer false realities and downright fiction that affect every part of our world view. For instance, actors, enhanced by surgery, makeup and special effects give us the impression that everyone should look perfect. The result is a whole generation of people who can never live up to such artificial standards. Thus men and women alike live under the judgment this vicious fallacy. One glance at the tabloids or newspapers, however, confirms that no matter how attractive someone appears on screen they are no better on the inside … and often worse. Beauty really is only skin deep, after all. It is much the same with precious stones and metals. With the right lighting, they all look good to the untrained eye. And so it is with many of the things which surround us.

This principle holds true in the spiritual realm of our lives as well. God has provided us with a world of beauty and blessing, but we continue to trade in the real thing for cheap counterfeits which lack intrinsic and lasting value. As mentioned above, our society sacrifices priceless inner beauty and character for temporal external beauty. We stand in line for food that looks and tastes wonderful, yet is terrible for us. We become addicted to various levels of pornography which cheapen the beauty, function and relationship God meant for us to enjoy with one another. We publicly condone and encourage homosexuality which, in my humble opinion, completely deviates from our intended design. We choose earthly pleasure over eternal righteousness. We trust money for security and happiness. The list goes on and on and, and in every case it’s a compromise. In each instance we settle for something less than God intends for us to enjoy in this world. And when we do so, we’re buying a cheap knock off from he who is the evil opposite of God. In a very real sense, then, God intends us for heaven, but we slowly settle for little bits of hell … until we become utterly accustomed to them.

My hope and prayer for us today is that we shall learn not to settle for anything less than the real thing, as it was originally intended. We live in a world of counterfeits. Yet, wise is the one who has faith enough to trust that God only wants the best for each of us.

Counterfeit
Believers know God has a plan
Yet, there is another plan in play
For the evil one is a counterfeiter
Who leads the weak astray
By imitating the good things
That the Lord prepared for us
Perverting them ever so slightly
So that we misplace our trust
He offers lust instead of love
Twists food with gluttony
Makes our work a quest for wealth
Turns blessings to depravity
He strews our path with idols
Of most every shape and size
Which clamor for attention
From our unsuspecting eyes
Tantalizing all our senses
With countless sugar coated lies
The great deceiver draws us into
His fateful web of compromise
Until we can no longer
Distinguish counterfeit from real
Wooed by his empty promises
With all of their appeal
So those who would be faithful
Must guard their hearts and minds
Against the world’s counterfeits
Lest they awake one day to find
That they have bought the bill of goods
The master counterfeiter sold
And traded all God’s blessings
For idols of mere fool’s gold
By Frank Carpenter ©

Television

OK, time for a pop quiz. How many hours of television do you watch per day or week? Don’t be shy because you’re not alone. As a matter of fact, according to the A.C. Nielsen Co., “the average American watches more than 4 hours of TV each day (or 28 hours/week, or 2 months of nonstop TV-watching per year). In a 65-year life, that person will have spent 9 years glued to the tube.” Well, that certainly puts it into perspective. The fact is that most of us watch a great deal of television. Maybe you only watch half as much as the average. That would still put you spending 4 or 5 years of your life in front of the TV. When I think about it like that, I start thinking that something has gone terribly wrong. What could I do with five extra years? Yikes!

Seriously though, when I consider all that life has to offer, I’m amazed at the time we’re willing to spend staring at the old brain box. It makes for an interesting study of our priorities. Now my family doesn’t pay for cable so we only get the alphabet channels, and there was even a time when our kids were younger that we turned the TV completely off for two years. However, it keeps sneaking back into my life and currently plays a fairly prominent role. I’m not exactly saying it’s wrong. However, like other areas of our lives, we have so many good options that we often settle for what may not be the best. (or highest or most honorable) I don’t want to preach too much on this subject so I’ll just offer you my poem, which can be found below and speaks for itself. Below that, you will also find another whole page of national TV watching statistics I came across which I find to be quite disturbing. If you Google the subject and read some of the studies, it’s really rather disconcerting to consider some of the secondary health issue which seem to tie back to all those hours on the sofa. I’ll let you do your own homework if you are interested.

In the meantime, take a moment tonight to consider what all those hours are worth to you and your family. It certainly was a slap in the face when I recently paused to reflect upon my own life and priorities in this area. Television is neither bad nor inherently evil, but it can take over our lives if we’re not careful. Perhaps this is one of those issues where the delicate virtue of moderation is best and wisely applied. In closing, my wish for you today is that your precious hours may be filled with the best that life has to offer and that you may cherish interaction over mere entertainment.

Wasteland
In my living room, a monster lurks
that threatens you and me
And I haven't strength to turn it off
the monster is TV
It fills my precious hours with naught
and charms my senses so
I hardly even realize
where all the evenings go
It baby sits the children
when I need them occupied
While assuring me it educates
but in my heart I know it lied
When I have a moment to myself
to relax or think or pray
I seem to turn the TV on
and the time is washed away
By a flood of sound and color
and a world of fantasy
Which leaves me numb and empty
but still wanting more TV
I can sit and flip the channels
until the early morning hours
Even though I don't enjoy it
I am helpless in its powers
While in the next room stacks of books
are piled by my bed
I choose the mindless entertainer
and the classics go unread
I have a beautiful guitar
a pool, an exercising bike
A host of interests, friends and hobbies
that I cherish and I like
I have a home in need of maintenance
and a dusty Bible too
How can I squeeze in television
when there's so much I want to do
I complain until I'm breathless
how I'm busy, tired and stressed
Then I sink back on the couch again
a hypocrite, obsessed
What message do I send my children
as they learn to deal with life
Are my priorities in order
with my time, my God, my wife
Are Vanna, Bart and Gilligan
worthy of my precious hours
Or are they just the bait
for something larger which devours
Honor, goodness and compassion
leisure, patience, quality
Have I ever read a survey
recommending more TV
No, it certainly is otherwise
and let there be no mistake
That this medium's proponents
are paid endorsers, on the take
Who would have me think it harmless
to watch a million people die
To import crime and infidelity
on purpose, right before my eyes
To have my children taught by actors
how life is and ought to be
So in the end, they can't discern
real life from fantasy
The time has come not to cut back
an hour or two a day
The time has come to pull the plug
and put remote controls away
I hear the world is a better place
because of our technology
But I know my life is emptier
when I fill it with TV
By Frank Carpenter ©

Television Statistics
According to the A.C. Nielsen Co., the average American watches more than 4 hours of TV each day (or 28 hours/week, or 2 months of nonstop TV-watching per year). In a 65-year life, that person will have spent 9 years glued to the tube.

I. FAMILY LIFE
Percentage of households that possess at least one television: 99
Number of TV sets in the average U.S. household: 2.24
Percentage of U.S. homes with three or more TV sets: 66
Number of hours per day that TV is on in an average U.S. home: 6 hours, 47 minutes
Percentage of Americans that regularly watch television while eating dinner: 66
Number of hours of TV watched annually by Americans: 250 billion
Value of that time assuming an average wage of S5/hour: S1.25 trillion
Percentage of Americans who pay for cable TV: 56
Number of videos rented daily in the U.S.: 6 million
Number of public library items checked out daily: 3 million
Percentage of Americans who say they watch too much TV: 49

II CHILDREN
Approximate number of studies examining TV's effects on children: 4,000
Number of minutes per week that parents spend in meaningful
conversation with their children: 3.5
Number of minutes per week that the average child watches television: 1,680
Percentage of day care centers that use TV during a typical day: 70
Percentage of parents who would like to limit their children's TV watching: 73
Percentage of 4-6 year-olds who, when asked to choose between watching TV
and spending time with their fathers, preferred television: 54
Hours per year the average American youth spends in school: 900 hours
Hours per year the average American youth watches television: 1500

III VIOLENCE
Number of murders seen on TV by the time an average child finishes elementary school: 8,000
Number of violent acts seen on TV by age 18: 200,000
Percentage of Americans who believe TV violence helps precipitate real life mayhem: 79

IV. COMMERCIALISM
Number of 30-second TV commercials seen in a year by an average child: 20,000
Number of TV commercials seen by the average person by age 65: 2 million
Percentage of survey participants (1993) who said that TV commercials
aimed at children make them too materialistic: 92
Rank of food products/fast-food restaurants among TV advertisements to kids: 1
Total spending by 100 leading TV advertisers in 1993: $15 billion

V. GENERAL
Percentage of local TV news broadcast time devoted to advertising: 30
Percentage devoted to stories about crime, disaster and war: 53.8
Percentage devoted to public service announcements: 0.7
Percentage of Americans who can name The Three Stooges: 59
Percentage who can name at least three justices of the U.S. Supreme Court: 17
Compiled by TV-Free America
1322 18th Street, NW, Washington, DC 20036 (202) 887-4036
Information copied from:
http://www.csun.edu/~vceed002/health/docs/tv&health.html

A Wedding Toast

Love seems to be in the air … at least the air around me, so I thought I’d do something just a little different. Today is the 16th wedding anniversary of my little brother and his dear wife. Tomorrow, one of my employees is getting married and at the very same time our friends are throwing a wedding shower for my future daughter-in-law. And, low and behold, there is also an additional wedding reception for my 3rd cousin and his new bride. Not to mention the fact that I’m still deeply in love with my own dear wife of nearly 25 years. I guess it really is the first week of spring. To that end I offer as today’s poem the wedding toast I gave as the best man at my brother’s wedding all those years ago. So it’s happy anniversary to you, Scott and Gina, and a toast to the other blessed events of this weekend as well.

Now, most of us aren’t getting married or celebrating an anniversary this week. However, these words may also apply to you, for everyone desires love and health and happiness and everyone deserves honor and respect. Wherever you are in your own marriage or relationship, take a moment to read through this simple verse for I offer it to you as well. Maybe one or more of these attributes or attitudes is sorely missing or you need to make some extra effort this week to rebuild your momentum. I believe that God designed marriage and it should be a source of joy rather than a cross to bear. In fact, some folks may even be teetering on the brink of separation or divorce just now, but there is yet much hope for you. It starts with an earnest prayer, perhaps some counseling, and a lot of love. Don’t give up, though. It’s worth the trouble and God will honor your stalwart efforts towards preserving and improving your marriage. You can even whisper a little prayer right now and take the words of this poem home with you tonight to call them you own. Pick just one of the words to work on and start from there, or read through 1 Corinthians 13 and choose a word from that passage of strength wisdom. Sometimes it’s difficult to begin, but even the clumsiest word from an honest heart is better than an awkward silence. If you need assistance, feel free to email me through the link above and we can talk it over as well. The first step is always the most difficult, but it makes all the rest of them better.

Perhaps I have strayed from my original subject a bit, but marriage is really the journey which two people choose to share after the ceremony. For all the preparation and stress the wedding is actually the easy part. So here’s to a lifetime of love, not only for those I have mentioned above, but for all who read these words.

A Wedding Toast
May love and health and happiness
Be yours throughout the years
May friendship and fidelity
Bring strength to cast off fears
May honor and respect and trust
Be ever on your hearts
What, therefore, God had joined this day
May nothing cause to part
By Frank Carpenter ©

In Times of Trouble

Sometimes it seems as if life gives us more than we think we are able to bear. Just as there seasons of joy and happiness, we all experience seasons of trial and sorrow as well. When those waves of darkness break against our shores it’s easy to become overwhelmed, to lose hope. Yet, we know that God is a friend to the broken-hearted and He has promised that He “causes all things to work together for good to those who love Him, to those who are called according to His purpose.” (Romans 8:28) Does that mean we can expect everything go swimmingly and we will be exempt from trials? Certainly not. It merely means that in the big picture, in the light of eternity, God will use our circumstances for His greater good. In the short run, in the here and now, the tempests of life will continue to blow, bringing with them pain and trouble and woe. Take heart, however, for even when it seems that things are out of control, we can rest assured that God is still in control. He just doesn’t work on our schedule or perform according to our feeble human timing. He is powerful, but He is also patient.

But what about today? I cannot possibly know what you are going through right now and it may seem trite for me to wave off your pain with a promise that somehow everything will be alright. The internet is a relatively impersonal place and anyone with a computer, like me, can pass themselves off as an expert and deliver their particular sermon with impunity from the safety of their own home or office. So here’s the deal: I believe what I have stated above is true and that God has indicated it to be so in the bible. But that might not be enough … so if you are struggling or suffering or even questioning, click the email link at the top of this page and I will be happy to engage you on these issues. If you need support or advice I will endeavor to offer it. If you would like someone to pray with or for you, I will be happy to oblige. You are not alone, and whatever you’re going through you need not do so alone. I’m going out on a limb, but I’m also inviting you to do the same. So if you need it, let’s talk. Now if that sounds interesting to you, remember to use the email link and not the “comment” link because comments are anonymous and I’ll have no way to respond to you.

In the mean time, I encourage you to take a step back from your troubles and consider how they might eventually work out for the best, either for you or others. Somehow, God’s going to work it out. I am certainly not wise enough to fully understand that concept, but I do have the simple faith to trust God for what He has promised. I hope this has been helpful and I look forward to hearing from some of you if you have any needs or questions. May God bless you and keep you as you as we travel though this life together.

For the Glory
I’ve asked myself why a thousand times
And I’ve asked God a thousand more
How could he allow us to suffer so?
What purpose could this be for?
But the Lord doesn’t always explain things
In a manner which makes sense to me
So I have learned to put my trust in Him
In His counsel and sovereignty
He has promised all things work for good
And that He shall be glorified
Yet, it’s hard to see the glory
Through all the tears that I have cried
However, I know that the glory
Is shining somewhere up ahead
Somewhere just beyond my troubles
And we can trust in what God has said
So each day I search for the glory
In the trials that come to me
And they don’t seem so difficult to bear
In the light of eternity
By Frank Carpenter ©

St. Patrick's Day

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

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

My Next Breath

Today my words do not flow quite so easily, for their inspiration strikes closer to home. Last night, after years of battling with diabetes, kidney failure, lymphoma, and heart and stroke problems our friend Bob passed away. Actually, he is the father of a dear friend, but I have taken to visiting him these past few years when he has been more or less house-bound and he has become family to us. Bob was the original tough guy. He was a college athlete (at USC, no less), served in the Navy, worked as a policeman, and also as an investigator for the Department of Justice. Nothing breaks your heart more than seeing a tough guy crippled by disease and recent years had taken a heavy toll on him. In the end, it proved to be a battle he simply could not win. Yet this story, which probably seems all together too familiar, has a happy ending. You see, Bob knew another tough guy named Jesus Christ, who also suffered and died. However, Jesus was the Son of God and with His death he paid the price for all of our sin and reconciled us back to God. Jesus rose from the dead and promised that anyone who believes in Him and accepts His sacrifice for their sins shall also be rescued from death as well, and spend all of eternity with Him in Heaven. That is the good news of the Gospel of Jesus, a well-founded hope for a better life in a better place. Long ago, Bob made a decision to trust his life to Jesus, which assures him a place in the hereafter. In the here and now, however, the past week has been an excruciatingly difficult one for Bob and his family, but last night something wonderful happened. It doesn’t yet feel wonderful to those of us who are left, who mourn his loss, for we’ll need some time to mend and come to terms with how our own lives have been affected. Yet, we know in our hearts that Bob is far better off today than he was yesterday. For once he took his last breath here on this earth his very next breath was in heaven, and we can scarcely imagine what that must be like. Now Bob knows. Farewell, old friend.

My Next Breath
At the end of the darkest tunnel
No matter how black it may be
No matter the pressures or pain I feel
There is someone who comforts me
He pierces the gloom of my sorrow
Understanding the fears I must face
My God is the hope of tomorrow
Where He waits in that glorious place
In the moments when I truly suffer
When I'm frightened and gasping for breath
Even then, I am strong and triumphant
For I have cheated the prince of death
No disease or disaster can rob me
Of God's promise of victory
For I have been chosen to meet Him
At His throne to spend eternity
So what matter if I draw my last breath
And this life is taken from me
My next breath will be in heaven
And oh, what a breath that will be
By Frank Carpenter ©

The Unforgiving Minute

Life is an endless series of moments, of minutes if you will, and many of them come with choices to make. They will consist primarily of small, seemingly insignificant choices, but some will turn out to be life changing ... even life defining. The secret, therefore, to living a life of honor, value and significance lies in the management of those choices. For every choice counts, and moves us in a particular direction, determining our overall trajectory. I love the end of Rudyard Kipling’s classic poem “If” which concludes with the words:

“If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds worth of distance run
Yours is the world and everything that’s in it
And, what is more, you’ll be a man, my son”

That “unforgiving minute” can take many forms, but as the sands of the hour glass slip through our fingers we must make decisions which will betray our true selves and shape our destiny. Regardless what we have said about ourselves or our beliefs, those choices we make moment to moment shall tell the story of our lives. Like gentle adjustments in the wheel of a ship, they direct our course and even seemingly minor corrections can make the difference between a safe passage and a disaster. There are potentially bad choices which we can back away from or easily correct, yet some will come along which must be borne for a lifetime. So let us choose carefully, lest the unforgiving minute should catch us unawares. Indeed, let us seize each moment, each minute, and make it count.

The Unforgiving Minute
It matters little what folks think
Or how we compare with the rest
In the end, a man must prove himself
When it comes his time to test
For there are moments in each life
When words are simply not enough
When the mettle of a man is tried
And life will call his bluff
Then he finds himself come face to face
And standing all alone
Before the things he fears the most
And his true character is shown
When all his days and months and years
Shall finally culminate
In the unforgiving minute
Which is dealt each man by fate
That moment when he proves himself
To be either false or true
To that which he has long professed
And stood for hitherto
That single unforgiving minute when
His whole lifetime comes to bear
Showing him, at last, triumphant
Or pitching him into despair
Is the moment each man dreams of
And the moment each man fears
The sudden, unforgiving minute
Which defines him all his years
By Frank Carpenter ©

Song of the Siren

Last night, I attended a meeting of Christian artists and one of the discussion topics was the power of media to influence people. Now influence can be a good thing, but it also has a dark side. My medium is primarily the written word, which gets a distribution boost in this day and age from the internet. However, there are other mediums which reach us on a more subconscious level, allowing them to influence in an entirely different way. I was reminded of a previous study on that topic, specifically regarding music, and the poem which grew out of the process. To that end, I offer the following thoughts for your consideration.

Today, a few words about music. I love music, as most people do. However, it can be a dangerous thing because it is such a powerful medium. My own tastes therein are relatively eclectic and I try to keep an open mind, even about those forms of music which I generally don’t care for. As a poet, I also have an affinity for the lyrics of songs and that, perhaps, is the reason why I might pay more attention to what the words actually say. Those lyrics, even in popular and favorite songs, often contain messages which we would openly reject if they were mailed to us in a letter or printed in the newspaper. Countless popular songs, the words of which we usually know by heart, are far from uplifting. Themes that we would never dream of chanting over and over again, we willingly sing along to, over and over again, with no thought as to their content. You may call me paranoid. You may think that words like “brainwashing” are far too strong to apply. I just happen to subscribe to the wisdom of an old computer programming term: GIGO, which stands for “garbage in, garbage out.” In Psalm 1, God exhorts us to meditate on His law day and night. Likewise King David, the man after God’s own heart, closed Psalm 19 with the words, “Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable in Thy sight, oh Lord, my rock and my redeemer.” Perhaps we should be more careful what we are willing to have whispered into our hearts and minds on a repetitive basis. Just as the quality and quantity of food we consume has a measurable impact on our bodies, I propose that the quality and quantity of music we ingest has much the same effect on our hearts and minds. In the end a man becomes his music because those lyrics become the meditations of his heart. The best way to guard our hearts and minds, and therefore direct our lives, is to arm ourselves with pure and noble thoughts. Let us, therefore, carefully consider the content of our music because that music, through repetition, whispers deep into our souls and may have a part in shaping our character.

Song of the Siren
Music soothes the savage beast, or so I've often heard
But the man is wise who takes the time to evaluate each word
For often beat and rhythm, masquerading as our friends
Cover up the true agenda of the music and its ends
How easily the strong are lulled by the siren and her song
Who beckons unsuspecting souls to give in and come along
Unaware of her intentions and, in fact, quite unconcerned
But a man who cannot smell the smoke so easily gets burned
Indeed, there is a deeper issue for the one who would be pure
When he begins to hum along with songs he never should endure
But the barriers are broken down by the pleasant melody
So he accepts what should offend him because he somehow fails to see
The broader picture which surrounds him and his role within the plot
He sees the cheese, but not the trap and, unsuspecting, so is caught
Yet, sadly, even then the victim quickly loses sight
For he has built up a resistance to the message and his plight
We take the little things so lightly, yet life is naught but little things
The sum of which makes up the whole and whatever that may bring
Music stirs the soul to worship, but also stirs the heart to sin
The end result will be the product of the ingredients put in
If this is true, then I propose we measure carefully
The contents of our music, its purpose and its quality
We read the labels on the cereal box and at the grocery store
Because we care about our bodies, don't our hearts deserve much more?
Music soothes the savage beast, if that's what we've become
But the injection can be lethal once the local makes us numb
A song can be the sweetest thing, lifting up our minds and hearts
Or it can drown the voice of God, and tear our souls apart
By Frank Carpenter ©

Valentines Day

Yes, it’s Valentines Day once again. Perhaps it seems a silly tradition to some, but this is the day when we are supposed to reaffirm our love to those we care most about. Of course, I’m all about silly traditions so I offer up the following poem in honor of my own dear sweetheart, who has been brave enough to share the last quarter of a century with me. Now for all of you who may be searching for some way to express your own feelings, I welcome you to use my poem if it captures the way you feel about your loved one. If you’re wise, you’ll throw in some other trinket or card which suits the holiday. But something, anything, is better than nothing. Even at 9:00 tonight it won’t be too late to write a little note or grab a flower or plant at the grocery store, or at least make a clumsy last-minute speech. Come on, you can do it. Silly tradition? Maybe. However, once in a while just about everyone needs to know that they are still wanted. Let them know … and you’ll be glad you did.

Again and Again
If I could start over back where I began
And make all my choices anew
I know there are many things I might change
But, choosing again, I'd choose you
If I could retrace the path of my life
Rethinking the things I could do
I might choose a host of new options to try
But still I would try them with you
If I could avoid the mistakes I had made
And the difficult things I went through
Whatever I'd face on a second go around
I would still choose to face it with you
If I could turn back the hands of the clock
To a time I had long bid adieu
The goal of my living that time once again
Would be spending more of it with you
But rather than somehow reliving again
All the years which have now slipped away
I would choose to remember them just as they are
With the memories we share today
No, I wouldn't start over, I would not go back
I have no reason to start anew
When my choice for the future remains so clear
Again and again, I choose you
Frank Carpenter ©

The Islamic Cartoon Crisis

The world is in an uproar this week over a series of cartoons published back in September. I had not intended to comment on this issue, but the daily flow of news on the subject finally wore down my resistance. I am writing, of course, of twelve cartoons depicting stereotypical images of the prophet Muhammad which were originally published in the Danish newspaper Jyllands-Posten. The best known of these caricatures is an image of the prophet wearing a turban shaped like a bomb, and all of them seek to mock the supposedly violent nature of Islam. Interestingly enough, the newspaper first came up with the idea of such cartoons after several incidents of self-censorship involving people who feared Muslim reprisals. Even though these images originally appeared back in September, all hell seems to have broken loose after they were reprinted last month by a Norwegian paper, causing others to follow suit. Technically, Islam forbids the production of any images or illustrations of Muhammad for fear they could lead to idolatry. Now, I actually respect the basis of their belief. In fact, Muhammad borrowed the “graven image” concept from the Hebrew Old Testament and the Ten Commandments, which predated Islam by some two thousand years. (around 1496 BC) The more serious discussion of idolatry comes from the Christian writers of the first century AD, still more than five hundred years prior to Muhammad. And, while Islam has held this belief regarding the image of their beloved prophet, this is the first that most of the west has heard of it. However, there is something larger going on here and three important issues need to be addressed.

First of all, whether or not these images are offensive, the whole reason for their having been published in the first place was as a commentary on the violent nature of at least some factions of Islam. Islamic organizations in the west, and occasionally elsewhere, are constantly up in arms over this subject. They proclaim that Islam is a religion of peace and love and that a few isolated radical groups are giving them a bad name. That’s an extremely difficult argument to make from a historical standpoint. Can a person really say that Islam is peaceful and just gets a bad reputation from: riots, assassinations, decades of terror attacks on five different continents, malicious and public threats by the president of Iran, the ruling party in Gaza, the previous Iraqi regime, the current Iraqi resistance, Hezbollah, the Taliban, the burning of embassies, the bombing of embassies, the text of the Koran, the charter of Hamas, suicide bombers, rioting youths in England, decapitating kidnappers, airline hijackers, flag burners, and Al Qaeda? Can it really be argued that the world misunderstands Islam all because of a few million bad apples in Great Briton, Spain, France, Denmark, Germany, Italy, Indonesia, America, Greece, Argentina, Saudi Arabia, Syria, Iran, Iraq, Jordan, Lebanon, Israel, Pakistan, Egypt, Gaza, the West Bank, Yemen, Somalia, Afghanistan, Chechnya, Libya and the Sudan? This is just a sampling of supposed bad apples and activities based upon a very few minutes of research. Sadly, it appears that the west thinks of Islam as violent because that has been the bulk of our exposure. Having believers thereof rioting, attacking embassies, burning flags, murdering, and otherwise running amuck over a cartoon, only serves to support the violent stereotype. Thus, however religiously offensive it may be to Muslims, such depictions of Muhammad may not be entirely off base in a free and somewhat cynical western press. When I went online and Googled this subject in an attempt to view the vaunted cartoons I found only one of them, but accidentally stumbled upon dozens of images of angry Muslims burning and destroying things over the issue. I’m sorry, but it the bomb-shaped turban fits, wear it.

Second, international freedom of speech and censorship issues have been brought to the forefront by this issue. Does Islam have the right to dictate what the western press is allowed to print? That is a huge question. Historically, political cartoons, just like every other form of editorial expression have freely bashed every world religion, ethnic group, political party and pet cause imaginable. (Including my own father, from time to time.) That is the right of the press. If one group demands and receives some special treatment then all groups deserve such accommodation, and suddenly there will be nothing left which we are allowed to discuss anymore. Therefore, there must be no sacred cows. That’s what a free press is all about. Now, at this particular moment it might be considered insensitive or inflammatory to print these particular cartoons, but that is a choice that every editor should be free to make. We don’t have any say over the press in other countries or the programming on Al Jazeera and we shouldn’t. We don’t even want to. But we will not, we cannot tolerate censorship by any group, religious or otherwise. If the governments and press of the free world buckle on this issue, tomorrow it will be someone else with another axe to grind. If the proponents of a supposedly peaceful, cooperative and politically integrated Islam want equal rights and fair treatment by the western press then they have to play by our rules … and that means they are subject to political cartoons and editorial scrutiny. Welcome to the real world, boys and girls. We will not be censored.

Third, activist Muslims worldwide are using violence to protest caricatures of Muhammad depicting that very nature. Essentially, they are using violence in an attempt to bend the will and actions of the civilized world. Excuse me, but that’s terrorism. When one group employs violent acts in order affect social or political policy it’s just plain old terrorism. One sector of Islam is claiming to be peaceful and asking the press to respect their political beliefs, but other outspoken Muslims are threatening more violence if we don’t bend to their will. If the west submits to that sort of message, it will simply be sending another message to all other would-be terrorists that violence works. If you want to be respected, to be listened to, to be accommodated, then come to the table … don’t burn it. All civilized governments must deal with this kind of behavior, with these kinds of threats, in the strongest possible way so disgruntled people come to understand that nothing can be accomplished with violence. If we don’t meet violence head on it will become an incurable socio-political cancer that our children and grandchildren must inherit and live with. We must not bow to riots, threats and violent activism. That is terrorism and we shall not stand for it.

In conclusion, there seems to be no easy answer to this current conundrum. The western press is not likely to back down. Western governments have no right to squelch freedom of expression in their respective countries. Muslims are unlikely to become satisfied with the situation, and there are certainly some Islamic factions and nations who are committed to using this religious outcry to their political advantage. What I do know is that this is merely the latest skirmish in a clash of ideologies which has been raging for years and isn’t likely to diminish anytime soon. However, freedom of speech, like other liberties enjoyed by the free world, must remain cherished and protected. I have the freedom to write these words and you have the freedom to read them, or not. May we never stand for anything less.

The Gift

Back on November 15th I posted an entry entitled Tokens of Affection, which related to young people and how important it is for them to remain frugal with their physical affections in relationships. I had a very warm response on that issue from my fellow parents so it seemed appropriate to expand on the theme. The next step, of course, is a forthright discussion on abstinence, upon which I will here endeavor to embark. My primary text on this subject is an additional poem entitled The Gift, which explores the value of saving the gift of sexual purity for a certain and final marital partner, and how difficult that journey can be. As a necessary disclaimer, even though I often write to and/or for my own grown children, I wrote this particular poem over twelve years ago so it must be noted that neither of my offspring had even entered junior high at the time.

That being said, let us begin at the beginning. Modern society clearly fails to embrace the value of abstinence. Our books, magazines, television, movies, in fact every mainstream media, promotes extra-marital sex … not only in content, but also through advertising. Thus, young people begin getting brainwashed at a very young age so that most have become desensitized to the subject by the time it turns out to be most relevant to them. The world says, “go ahead, experiment, enjoy yourself.” After all, what other message are young people hearing? Unless they are involved in a strong church youth group or have parents who are conservative, forthright and courageous in their communication, they may not receive a viable alternative argument for abstinence. Indeed, rare is the school or district willing to teach abstinence as the best alternative. Yet, when we consider the possible consequences of unwanted pregnancy or sexually transmitted diseases, not to mention the emotional trauma of these very real problems, how is a young person to responsibly weigh the cost and benefits of such decisions. Society’s answer is to provide condoms and abortions, both of which treat only the symptoms of the problem … and not always effectively. At the root of this debate lie deeper questions which must be asked, and answered.

When making value judgments about such sensitive issues as sex versus abstinence, society generally fails to address two very important questions: “Is it right?” and “Is it best?” The world doesn’t like those kinds of questions asked because they already know the answers. When you ask if something is right or wrong, it implies that there are certain moral absolutes which should govern human activity. First of all, there are. Second of all, I believe with all my heart that those moral absolutes are based upon biblical principles. I don’t here intend to thump my bible and quote countless verses on the subject, even though they exist, but I would be happy to engage anyone individually on this subject. The bottom line is that many folks are uncomfortable with moral absolutes, with right and wrong, because they imply sin and judgment. My eloquent response to that concept is simply “duh!” It’s easy to find people who will concede that premarital sex is ok or acceptable, but you’re hard-pressed to find those who will actually swear that it’s “right.” That’s because, in our heart of hearts, we know otherwise … we know better. Regardless of the fact that it happens, and with shocking frequency, it is still essentially wrong. I know it, and so do you.

Which brings us to the second big question: “Is it best?” Don’t think about if it is “good” or “OK” or “acceptable.” Rather, is it really best? Again, I believe God has a plan for us. He designed us to be paired up as one man and one woman for life. That’s supposed to be called marriage and when God created man He had just that complimentary relationship in mind. To choose otherwise generally involves some sort of compromise on that design. It’s easy to make sweeping statements about narrow-mindedness, constitutional rights and personal freedom, yet freedom without some sort of guiding ethical standards is an empty freedom indeed. Again, however, there are moral absolutes involved. When writing on the subject the Apostle Paul wrote, “All things are lawful for me, but not all things are profitable.” Essentially, he was making the point that what is permissible may not necessarily be beneficial. That’s what I mean about choosing what is best. Waiting for marriage is what is best, and it’s what God intended for us. Any other choice simply borrows against future blessings. Isn’t faithfulness the most beautiful gift we could give to someone we truly love and want to spend the rest of our lives with. True faithfulness begins long before marriage, it begins in adolescence. Anything less is simply that: less.

One more subject remains to be covered at this juncture. I have herein preached about what is right and what is best, but I have left out one very important group of people. For there are many of us who have already compromised and made choices in this area which fell short of those I so vehemently advocate. To those who have previously swerved from the much-vaunted narrow path these words will seem as judgment and condemnation. Yet all is not lost for, while the past is beyond repair, it is forgivable and the future still belongs to you. Whoever you are, wherever you are along your journey, you can draw a line in the sand right now and choose to do the right thing, the best thing, and there is still great honor in such courageous choices. If you have already compromised your purity, or are doing so at this time, you can still take the higher road from now on and find your place in the fold of faithfulness. The beautiful thing about life is that it’s never too late to do the right thing. God meets us right where we are and a future spouse should also respect such a change of heart as well. I can ask no more, God can ask no more, than that we each give the best that we have. If you’re in this position right now, your choice is not liable to be well received by your partner, which will be evidence that you’re relationship was based upon something other than true love. Stand by your higher calling. Let your allegiance be to God, and to that future someone who will marry you and truly be your forever. The path of moral purity, even embarked upon mid-journey, has a way of healing us over time.

I think, perhaps, I have said enough for today. Let me close by stating that this gift of purity I have spoken of is not only a gift we can give to a future spouse, it is also a gift we can give to ourselves. It’s about respecting ourselves and being unwilling to erode our own character and the inherent value of our hearts and minds. It is an investment in the future which promises blessings we cannot begin to imagine. Cherish that gift in hopes that someone else, perhaps someone you have never even met, might already love you enough to do the same.

The Gift
No amount of money, nor words of eloquence
Can take back what was given in our ignorance or haste
There is no substitute for chastity or simple innocence
Commodities so easily forgotten and defaced
And for what, what noble purpose could be found for their demise
What value could be gained by what so easily is lost
In the end it serves no master but the lie of compromise
An end so often overlooked by those who pay the cost
So much wisdom lies in hindsight, though wisdom dearly bought
By those who made their choices ‘ere they understood the price
Of surrendering too hastily in battles better fought
When the only real victory is won through sacrifice
Indeed, why wait, when everyone appears to bend the rules
While denying moral absolutes were ever set in stone
When the real heroes are so often made to play the fools
And those who choose to stand their ground often do so all alone
Yet, how sweet a prize awaits the few who do not fail or bend
Who choose the way of abstinence because they deem it right
And, in so doing, hold in trust a treasure for the end
Which will return a hundredfold once they have fought the fight
For those who save the gift of love bring honor to the one
On whose behalf they sacrificed in order to invest
A thing so rare and precious that when all is said and done
Its value would compound beyond what any could have guessed
Until the treasures and the trinkets of this world seem so pale
Compared to what the faithful ones had saved in their account
Which could never rust or tarnish, nor devaluate or fail
Paying dividends whose value would defy a mere amount
Yet who can offer such a gift? Indeed, a precious few
Who looked beyond each moment to another time and place
For which they proved their faithfulness, having boldly chosen to
Long years before they found the one or knew that one’s embrace
How can we teach a generation in a world such as this
To save what they want so to spend for what they cannot see
And reserve it for a person whom they cannot know or kiss
When the straight and narrow path is so obscured by liberty
If they could only look ahead, beyond the here and now
To understand the implications of the choices made today
Then the value of their abstinence might come to light somehow
And all would see the wisdom of the straight and narrow way
And see the rich reward in store for those who prudently
Remained faithful to the one they knew that they were chosen for
Who kept themselves as pure as they would wish their mate to be
Ever mindful of the future we can so easily ignore
Indeed, the one who wisely sows the seeds of sacrifice
Will reap the happiness so earned when all is said and done
And bring to love the gift which can’t be bought for any price
As an offering of love reserved for one, and only one
To wait is but to cherish what cannot be taken back
So we must gird our hearts and minds and choose how we will live
For lust can’t wait to get, and so continues its attack
Yet, love can wait until the time is right for love to give
By Frank Carpenter ©

Getting Out of the Boat

I’m letting you know right up front that today’s message is for all those who profess a saving faith in God. From a lifetime of church and bible reading, even in moderation, we have a pretty fair idea of what kind of life we should be living. Better yet, God indicates repeatedly that He’s on our side and more than willing to help us along the way. What He asks it that we take those daily steps of faith in order to tap into His power and guidance for our lives. Sounds great, right? Eternal fire insurance paid up by Jesus, check. Instruction manual (the bible) provided in nearly every language, check. God is our coach. The Holy Spirit has been provided to play the role of Jimminy Cricket - and so much more. We’ve read the end of the book and we already know the good guys win. Alrighty then, looks like this life of faith and obedience is all charted out and it should be smooth sailing … in theory. However, much like the Hebrews wandering in the wilderness, we seem to go weak in the knees when it comes down to living our daily lives out in the real world. First of all, the life of faith is the real world. Second of all, there’s no secret formula to successfully living a life of faith. Perhaps I’m preaching to the choir, but I’m in the choir and I certainly struggle with this every day. We huddle in our homes and churches discussing how to change both ourselves and the world, yet we often fall flat when it actually comes down to executing. This is where I love the example of the Apostle Peter. Jesus called him the rock, but he stumbled through his life of faith much the same as we do. The great thing about Peter, however, was his willingness to act. At times he was kind of a ready-fire-aim guy, but at least he moved forward. One of my favorite images is that of the frightened apostles out in a boat on the Sea of Galilee during a storm. They’re best friends with the creator of the universe, but have difficulty translating that knowledge into action. When Jesus comes walking across the water to save them, instead of rejoicing at the miracle, they remain as frightened and wet as ever. Only Peter has the faith to leap out of the boat and claim the saving power of his relationship with Jesus in the midst of that raging storm. It’s a great picture to focus on in the midst of the inevitable storms in our own lives. Maybe that is the secret to successful Christian living. We don’t need paperback books or “three easy steps” sermons. We simply need to take a deep breath, climb out of the boat, keep our eyes on Jesus and start walking. In the end, Peter showed us that faith isn’t something we can merely say or feel, it’s what we do. Faith is action. So for all of you other sheep who, like me, often feel daunted by what God asks of us, it’s time that we climb out of the boat and get down to the business at hand. That first step is a doozy … but it’s the one we most need to take. Here goes! Getting Out of the Boat In the black of the night, the waves tossed the boat And the roar of the wind filled the air While twelve weary men pulled, in vain, at the oars They were frightened and close to despair When Jesus appeared, walking over the waves Across the water, He came to their aid Even though He had fed the five thousand that day They couldn't believe, and the men were afraid But Peter jumped up and cried, "Call to me, Lord And I'll walk on the water to You!" Jesus said, "Come." and Peter climbed out Then he walked on the water too The men in the boat, astonished, believed Yet, though they had seen with their eyes None, but Peter, stepped out of the boat with the Lord None could muster the faith up to try These were the men who had been with the Lord Who'd seen Him heal the sick and the lame Eleven disciples, the apostles, stood by Unwilling to trust or to call on His name How often we cower before the storm Content to sit in the boat with the rest Knowing well what the Lord has the power to do But afraid to put faith to the test Yet, God calls us to be more than soggy and scared He calls us to stand up and fight The storm still is raging, but Jesus says, "Come, Who will walk on the water tonight?" By Frank Carpenter ©

Dangerous Rhetoric

There has been a great deal of anti-Semitic rhetoric coming out of Iran lately, especially from Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. Most worrisome are blatant statements by him to the effect that “Israel must be wiped off the map.” The outrageousness of that sort of comment speaks for itself, but I wish to address another line of comments which have been spewing from the silver tongued leader of that nation. He has also been publicly pedaling the falsehood that the Holocaust was merely a myth fabricated to bolster pro-Jewish sentiment. When a leader begins to twist the lessons of history to his own advantage, the world needs to keep a very close eye on him. This may be a ploy to solidify his position, to unite Arab nations, or even to soften public opinion prior to some future intended military action. This is all the more disturbing when such a leader simultaneously calls for the destruction of another nation, discounts the value and rights of its people and strives to develop a nuclear arsenal. These issues add up to a recipe for disaster, while pointing to some ancient historical lessons which warrant our attention. You see, how a nation deals with the Jewish people often betrays much about its character and where it will fall in the greater scheme of history. From Haman to Hitler the enemies of Israel, especially those bent on the eradication of the Jewish people, have generally proven themselves to be evil and doomed themselves to eventual destruction. Such intentions often portend darker designs by that nation and whether as the ends or the means, Israel seems to end up in the crossfire. I appreciate talk show host Dennis Prager’s opinion that the Jews are the world’s canary. Miners traditionally took canaries into mines with them because of the birds would die if the air became toxic, thus warning the miners of danger. So it has been with history. When you see a nation align itself against Israel or its people, especially if it involved their annihilation on any scale, you can bet that a greater evil is afoot. And I here take license to propose that such a nation will also turn out to be the enemy of God. That may be offensive to some people, but if so I challenge you to take a broad look at history and you will almost always find that the enemies of the Jewish people turn out to be the bad guys. Bear in mind that I am not Jewish. I am merely a student of history and current events. However, I actually don’t wish to belabor this point today as I have another agenda.

When we hear the dangerous rhetoric of a leader which cheapens the value of a certain cultural, religious or ethnic group, even blaming it for troubles in the world, we must be very attentive to their future actions. Such talk may be the litmus test for the aspirations or intentions of that regime. When a leader uses another nation or people for a scapegoat, it usually points to shortcomings in his own country from which he needs attention diverted. That culture of hatred also paves the way for future atrocities, providing justification for both oppression and murder. This has been historically cyclical so we must never let our guard down. We must not allow the darker chapters of human history to be forgotten, for that is always the first tragic step towards the perpetration of future atrocities. That is why such rhetoric must be addressed, and such nations must be confronted in the strongest possible manner. For the language of hatred today becomes the fuel for evil tomorrow and the dark episodes of history in the future. We cannot, we must not, allow any leader or nation to openly promote the annihilation of another nation or people. The world has become far too small for such language. It is, in point of fact, tantamount to treason against humanity and must be dealt with most severely because it openly promotes the justification of terrorism. In this modern world there can be no place for ethnic cleansing … nor anyone who promotes or encourages it. Iranian President Ahmadinejad has stepped over that line and it is time for a responsible world to act. There is no better way to circumvent future terrorism and atrocities. The lessons of history are all too clear and we can only look forward to a brighter future by understanding the darkest chapters of our past. To that end I offer the following poem as a warning about our human nature and how we must be proactive in circumventing the evil we have proven ourselves capable of.

Atrocities
The inhumanity of humans
has plagued us through our history
We mighty, moral Homo Sapiens
with such a knack for cruelty
No matter how we train or educate
some leader rises from the throng
To perpetrate new crimes of hate
while the masses follow along
Somehow, accepting what is evil
and so clearly unacceptable
We are wooed, once more, to hate
and do what is unthinkable
We, who have evolved so far
and churched ourselves so well
Cast civil rights aside and opt
to be the very instruments of hell
Just like diseases which were wiped out
by vaccines we have made
So atrocities are laid to rest
until our memory of them fades
But when we cease to use the vaccine
diseases torment us again
So it is with human hatred
and within the hearts of men
Just when we think we've snuffed out
what was evil and so wrong
It seems to rear its ugly head again
revitalized and just as strong
But it must not be swept beneath the rug
or white washed in any way
And our crimes committed in the past
must be revealed still today
We must remember, we must understand
the potential of our hate
If we're to overcome our tendencies
before it is too late
In this modern world, where we pride
ourselves on civil liberties
We still allow someone, somewhere
to perpetrate atrocities
By Frank Carpenter ©

Last Holiday

Earlier this week I had the opportunity to attend an advance screening of the movie, “Last Holiday,” which opens today nationwide. I enjoy a nice comedy, yet at first glance this particular movie seemed a little too frivolous to warrant a thoughtful review. However, as I read the story line it began to interest me because I appreciated the theme twist. “Last Holiday” is the story Georgia Byrd (played by Queen Latifah), a shy cookware salesperson who works in a large department store who keeps her dreams to herself while trudging through her rather mundane everyday life. When a medical diagnosis indicates she has only a short time to live she cashes in her savings and flies off to a grand hotel in Europe to get a taste of her dreams before it’s too late. Along the way, her new perspective on life frees her to try all manner of new experiences and she winds up having a profound influence on everyone sheet meets … from congressmen hotel servants. Adding to both the fun and sentiment are solid performances by LL Cool J as her would be beau and Gerard Depardieu as the snooty resort chef who becomes Georgia’s friend. This movie delivers all the comedy that the trailers promise, but I was also surprised at how thoughtful and touching it became. Somehow, the rather familiar plot was able to tug at my heart strings while I was still laughing out loud. In the end, while being thoroughly entertaining, it also causes the viewer to consider their own life and unrequited dreams as well. I strongly recommend this movie as both funny and meaningful. Parents also will be glad to know that there is very little inappropriate language and the sexual innuendo is kept to a reasonable minimum. So get out there and see “Last Holiday.” It’s lively enough to see with friends, romantic enough for a date night, and clean enough for the whole family.

In closing, I would also like to offer the following poem, with thoughts about how we might changes our own lives if we were to suddenly find them cut short. Enjoy.

As If It Were the Last
What if you had only one day to live?
Just twenty-four hours to spend
To say or accomplish what matters most
Before your life reached an end
Who would you spend it with, where would you go
What would you do or see
What words of wisdom would you bestow
Knowing they were your legacy
How would you spend your money, your time
The last ounce of strength you possessed
Would you reach for the stars or wallow in pity
In light of an imminent eternal rest
Would you eat, drink and be merry
Or fall on your knees just to pray
To prepare for meeting your Maker
On that brink of your reckoning day
Whatever has raced through your mind just now
While these few simple stanzas you’ve read
About what you thought you needed to do
Before you were suddenly dead
I would urge you to make a list of them
And start living that way, even now
For we never know when our last day might come
There are no guaranties anyhow
We never know when the Master may call
When all of our second chances have passed
Then we are stuck with the life we have lived
So why not live each day as the last
Nobody gets advance notice like this
But the cement of your life isn’t set
There is still time to change it before your last day
So live a life you will never regret
By Frank Carpenter ©

A New Year

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 2005 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. There 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 b 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 shore 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.

His Only Son

Well, there’s time for one last Christmas poem before the big day rolls around. On a more pensive note, though, today is actually the 2nd anniversary of my father’s passing in 2003. I had intended to write on that subject, but we’ll get right down to the season because that is the message that folks are looking for about now. Perhaps I shall return to reflect thereon after the holidays. However, I have taken the liberty of choosing a father/son story to finish out my poetic Christmas suite for this year. The following poem is actually a rather true story about one late night in my own parenting past. It was one of those amazing moments when what you know and what you feel suddenly collide with a staggering eternal truth. My prayer for you this season is that you may have a similar experience and that, if only for a moment, all the glitter and commercialism will fade away and the true wonder of that first Christmas comes shining through for you. That’s the moment when all the presents and parties and trees suddenly cease to matter and you come face to face with the Jesus whom God sent to us on that first Christmas day. Merry Christmas to all.

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

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

Christmas Stories

The Christmas season has many traditions and one popular one over the centuries has been the fabrication of various stories and folk tales associated with our holiday. We’ve added Santa, reindeer, elves, fairies, grinches, drummer boys, snowmen and all manner of odd pets and characters. Of course, Christmas is actually about the birth of Jesus Christ, who is the Son of God and the Savior for all mankind. However, as if by some dark design, we’ve crowded our tradition with a host of colorful and charismatic substitutes who all clamor for our attention. No wonder that so many people, even those of religious persuasion, often make it through the whole month with hardly a thought of Jesus or the true meaning of our ancient holiday. This is just my little reminder that when we get to telling and enjoying Christmas stories let’s not forget the one which matters most … for it is the only Christmas story that is true. Have a blessed season and tell the story.

Christmas Stories
There are so many Christmas stories
Oh how we love to hear
The way the children's snowman came to life
We applaud those flying reindeer
And the way they pull the sleigh
We love jolly old Saint Nick and his dear wife
Who could ever overlook
Those darling little elves
And all the magic things that they can do
We watch aghast with horror
As that mean old Mr. Grinch
Tries to steal Christmas morning from the whos
Adults and children just alike
All gather 'round the tube
To watch what they've seen many times before
The characters of Christmas
Come in every shape and size
So easy to believe in and adore
But there's another Christmas story
That our children need to hear
You've heard it and you probably know it well
The plot is not as colorful
Nor are the characters
Yet, it's the one we really need to tell
Remember how in Sunday school
You learned about the Christ
Who came to cleanse the world of its sin
They told you all you had to do
Was open up your heart
And Jesus would forgive you and come in
On Christmas day we celebrate
The birth of Jesus Christ
Who came to earth to save both me and you
He's the only Christmas story
That you really need to know
And the only Christmas story that is true
By Frank Carpenter ©

Christmas Can Wait

If you are anything like us, you may be starting to count the days and hours until Christmas and wondering how you’ll ever get everything done. It seems like that’s exactly what we end up doing each year. Some folks start early and leave very little for December, but many of us are scrambling just about now. Of course, most of the distractions and pressure related to Christmas have very little to do with the real meaning of Christmas. Worst of all, in that mad rush to get everything checked off of our lists we often do the spirit of the season a disservice. We cut people off on the freeway, we have altercations in the parking structure, and we walk right past countless folks who may truly need to be cared for. Indeed, statistically, the holidays represent a period of increased stress and depression, even boasting a much higher suicide rate than other times of the year. I’m so worried about my own Christmas that it’s easy to forget about others who are outside my intimate group of family and friends. However, aren’t love and forgiveness the whole point? A few years ago we had a December which seemed to be flooded with people who needed us, needed someone, just to help them get through it. The following poem grew out of those precious weeks, when we learned that sometimes there are more important issues at hand than our own selfish preparations. As you prepare for the holidays, I offer it for perspective. Oh, and have a merry Christmas.

Christmas Can Wait
We’ve been wanting to get the cards done
And have the shopping out of the way
We’ve been meaning to decorate the tree
But things just kept getting in the way
It seems a neighbor, a friend, or a relative
Would call with some special need
Which was greater, by far, than ours
So our Christmas plans would concede
While the shopping days were slipping by
And the holiday crunch drew near
The Christmas pressure began to mount
As it seems to most every year
Then we realized maybe the hurting folks
That God kept sending our way
Needed Christmas even more than we did
Just like those on the first Christmas day
When God reached out to this hurting world
And, because of His love for you and me
He sent His only Son to suffer and die
On a cross of wood, at Calvary
God wasn’t too busy, distracted or tired
To carry out His wonderful plan
He sent us a Savior on Christmas day
As a gift to each woman and man
So our shopping and Christmas plans can wait
Now that we finally understand
We can’t turn away those who need God’s love
For we are His voice and His hand
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

The Wonder of it All

Sometimes we get caught up in our daily lives and slowly lose the ability to see even the simple beauty which surrounds us. Eventually, all we see is the traffic and the laundry, our work and our chores ... the things that need to be done. Our senses become clogged by the silt of busy lives and hectic schedules. That's when a change of scene can do us the most good. For just as a bright light can temporarily ruin our night vision, so the bright lights, sounds and schedules of modern life can impair our perspective and leave us a bit discouraged. Having been out of town and out "in the wild" recently, I can attest that a little travel really can reawaken our senses, clear our minds and soothe our weary hearts. There is wonder and beauty all around us, but we become numb to it over time and a change of pace and environment can help us get back on track. For once we are refreshed and have seen a few sunsets in the wide outdoors, or even just slept in for a few days, the world looks completely different ... like focusing the lens on a camera just right. So, if your own life feels a little out of focus or something like a radio station that isn't quite tuned in, maybe you just need to take a day or two off and go someplace new. Mind you, we don't have to go far and we can escape for as little as a weekend or a day. But that change of pace just might be the ticket. Take that time for yourself, or with your spouse or kids, and you might just feel a whole lot better. Once you do, you may come back and discover once again that a new perspective will help you to see the wonder of it all ... even in your own backyard.

The Wonder of it All
Sometimes we need to slip away
From all that we're accustomed to
And break the routine of our lives
In places strange and new
For those moments bring perspective
To help us better understand
The larger world we must share
And our Creator's mighty hand
There are so many wonders
So much beauty to behold
More beautiful and precious
By far, than jewels or gold
Other people, other cultures
Near at hand, and far away
Who have so much to offer
As we wander on our way
Sometimes we need a fresh perspective
Beyond all familiar things
Before we see the wonder of it all
Such is the gift which travel brings
By Frank Carpenter