Shell Seeker

I am reminded this morning of an old image that my wife and I have always cherished. Once upon a hazy morning by the seaside I sat for an hour or more observing as my daughter, who was quite young at the time, gathered shells and shiny stones by shore. It was a time of reflection set in the midst of a busy period of work and parenting. On that particular morning all she wanted to do was wander aimlessly along the sand and collect the assorted natural trinkets which generally only have value to a child. Yet, as I watched her I began to realize how little many of my own material desires and possessions were really worth. Indeed, we adults squander much of our lives collecting and paying for trinkets which, in the larger picture, are as worthless as the bucket of shells my daughter was so proud of. She, in her own childish way, saw the beauty in the simplest objects in nature and I daresay that they brought her more joy than much of what I had worked so hard to purchase. I learned a valuable lesson that day, through the wisdom of child whose capacity for joy and wonder greatly exceeded my own.

Such moments have helped to slowly bend my own value system so that I better understand what really matters in life. There are times when I am driven to sacrifice for the wrong things and work too hard to keep up with the Jones’. Then I try to remember the great wisdom of a little girl who understood true beauty and who taught me that the world is filled with shiny stones whose value is often unrelated to their price. I can only hope that you have had someone young enough and wise enough in your own life to teach you such lessons … and that you were willing to listen. May your day be filled with the wonder of simple things.

Shell Seeker
Down where the water meets the sand
She wanders happily
In search of shells and stones
And other treasures from the sea
Each prize borne in a bucket
Swinging from her tiny hand
As I watch my young shell seeker
Finding treasure in the sand
She takes me back to sea shores
And lazy mornings long gone by
When I combed the shore for treasure
With the same look in my eye
And I realize that nothing
I have bought with what I've earned
Has more value than her treasures
And it's high time that I learned
To stop, from time to time
And hear the waves upon the shore
To feel the wind upon my face
And be a shell seeker once more
By Frank Carpenter ©

We Must Take Them

There is clearly something in our make up which causes us to respond to nature. Whether the majesty of a mountain, the beauty of a sunset or the intricacy of the smallest flower, we were born to appreciate the wonders of creation. As an increasing number of our fellow humans beings live out their existence in the midst of urban and suburban sprawl they begin to lose touch with the out of doors. I refer, of course, to the real outdoors that was planted by God rather than the landscaping of sculpted niches of open space so many people have access to. I live in a place where it seems nearly tropical because so many palm trees have been planted, but that can hardly be considered when most of those trees emerge from tidy uniform holes in the concrete sidewalk. Indeed, no matter how much we advance our civilization or progress technologically we humans still have an inherent need for wilderness experiences of one kind or another. Some folks live in areas adjacent to the wilderness. However, for most of us it takes a little more effort to really get outdoors. Yet, when we finally do, we usually discover it was well worth that effort.

I believe that effort is even more important in the case of our young people. Indeed, children can’t set their own schedules or provide their own transportation so they are at our mercy from the standpoint of outings and vacations. Both as a father and a Scout leader I have had the privilege of getting young folks outdoors and seeing how they respond to it. Modern kids of all ages now live in a world of increasing technology and mounting pressures to perform in and outside of the classroom. Throw in cell phones, television, radio, mp3 players and such other distractions and you end up with an entire generation of young folks who have become unaccustomed to the therapeutic value of wilderness experience. We have to take them out of the noise and distraction of the city for them to appreciate what it means to enjoy the peace and quite of nature. In fact, the very term “peace and quiet” tends to lose its reference point when we don’t get outdoors. Nowadays, that phrase is more liable to conjure up thoughts of napping on the couch with the television off. Yet, those who know better understand that there can hardly be any substitute for the sound of a waterfall or wind in the pines, or the reflection of mountains on a lake. The song of a few common birds or three crickets in the side yard can hardly compare to the symphony of a twilight forest. No, we were made to be outdoors. Certainly, I don’t suppose that we should all live in teepees or caves. I merely mean that we need to get out of our homes and apartments from time to time and visit the places where animals still run free and the sun sets over a hill instead of city skyline or housing tract. It is our sacred responsibility as adults and mentors to be sure that the children in our sphere of influence are immersed in the wonders of creation face to face … which is the only true high definition, surround sound experience. For let me be clear: the Nature Channel is not really nature, nor is the Discovery Channel truly discovery. Those are videos of other people being outdoors. Our children need see the outdoors for themselves, but they cannot do so alone, and they will not do so without our leadership and inspiration. We must take them.

We Must Take Them
We must take our children
Out of town and out of doors
To the forest and the mountains
The desert and the ocean shores
We must take them into nature
Let them feel and hear and see
All the wonders of creation
It’s our responsibility
To ensure that children understand
The world we all must share
They should experience its beauty
So that they learn to care
For the creatures and the places
Which are still untouched and wild
This is among the greatest gifts
That we can give a child
For to know the open spaces
And to breathe the open air
Is to understand creation ...
But we must take them there.
By Frank Carpenter ©

To Be There, Reflections on Valentines Day

Well, here we are at Valentines Day once again. As I ponder this strange little holiday we share it comes to mind that we often miss the point in the area of love and romance. I certainly appreciate any opportunity to celebrate with and about the special people who share our lives with us. We celebrate monthaverseries, for heaven’s sake. However, a night of flowers and candy is hardly to be considered love in the big picture. True love is wrapped up with longevity and relationship. We’ve grown so accustomed to the Hollywood version of being “madly in love” one minute and then suddenly no longer in love. For the record, that is not love. That is lust, or infatuation at best. If you can truly call something love it must stand the test of time. I had occasion in the midst of some errands last night to visit some important venues from the annals of my own love life which brought this point home to me. First I drove by the bench where my wife and I first kissed some 26 years ago. Then I wandered through the courtyard of the church where we were married and down past the swings on the beach where we seemed to end up at the close of many a date. Those simple, yet special, places represent important chapters in the history of our life together. We recently celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary and that was another important milestone. In my opinion that kind of history is how we can measure the depth of love. In much the same way real love also has a future as well. Along with shared memories come shared hopes and dreams and plans which constitute a defined romantic trajectory. In the end, love is really just two people who are mutually attracted and committed and traveling through life … together. Far too often when I hear people say, “I love you” it seems like what they really mean is, “lie down, I think I love you.” Clearly folks have a tendency to squander those precious words far too hastily. Love means being there through the good and the bad and the happy and sad and whatever life brings us.

By all means, buy flowers and cards and candy. Go out to dinner and take a long walk under the stars. However, I feel with all my heart that we should find a way to live like that all year long. The real wonder of love, after all, isn’t found on the inside of a greeting card. On the contrary it lies in sharing the big blank page of life and writing our stories upon it together. May you have a happy Valentines Day, but let it be the launching point for the deeper kind of love which goes the distance. I close today by offering a poem I wrote for my own Valentine some years ago. The sentiments still hold true … as does my heart.

To Be There
Just to be there is all that I ask for
When the sun dips its head in the west
When the sapphire day is smiling
That is my only request
To be there when you laugh for no reason
Or you stare at the stars in the sky
All that I ask is to be there
To see the light that shines in your eye
To be there when you listen to music
Or you wander outside in the rain
I simply want to share these things
Just to be there again and again
All that I ask is to be there
When the storms of life darken your way
To offer a shoulder for you to cry on
Hold your trembling hand when you pray
All that I ask is to be there
Just to share in what life has to give
Just to be there and to be together
For to be there with you is to live
By Frank Carpenter ©

God Be With You

Allow me, if you will, to wax somewhat parental. I came across today’s poem recently, which I wrote in church the first Sunday after we dropped our youngest off at college for her freshman year. Now, in her third year, she’s off to study for a semester abroad in Europe and I find that these same sentiments still hold true. All the more so as our oldest is now married and has settled out of state … which is fine. As parents, we do the best we can for the time allotted and then we have to nudge them out of the nest so they can soar on their own. That is a difficult time for many parents. Yet, after all, our job isn’t to raise kids to be kids, but to be adults. So by definition they ought to leave that nest, get out of Dodge, and learn to live on their own. That’s the goal. We’ve been blessed with great kids who have earned our trust and their own freedom, thereby making the whole process much less painless because we don’t have quite so much to worry about. Our personal philosophy has always been that our children were just on loan from God anyway, making the parenting process more an issue of stewardship. So, now that they’re grown we turn them over to God and trust that He will watch over them when we are unable to. This approach gives us a great deal of peace about the situation. Maybe you’re not in our particular stage of life. However, most of us have relationships that span across some distance and sometimes we just have to trust that God is watching over our loved ones; whether they are climbing stairs or mountains, driving golf carts or stock cars, drinking water or whisky, teaching or learning. Whatever their varied situations, they are beyond our control and often beyond our assistance as well. We think of them fondly, we write and call, we pray for them. Yet, when those whom we care about are far away we must trust them to the tender care of the One who is ever with them. That’s when a few simple words bring a world of peace and comfort … may God be with you.

God Be With You
As I sat in church this morning
Without you by our side
I must admit, I’m a little sad
But also filled with pride
I’m excited for your brand new life
Though it is far from me
Because it’s the life God chose for you
Filled with opportunity
So though you are not with us
In our old familiar pew
I know wherever you may be
God will still be there with you
By Frank Carpenter ©

Lest Ye Be Judged

We all tend to be rather opinionated, myself included. In fact, if you’ve been reading this site, it’s obvious that I may well be the prince of opinioned. It is with a humble heart, therefore, that I urge us to consider together the subject of judging others. It seems to be human nature to judge. Try this experiment: Ask anyone you know about someone else and listen to their answer. You will almost certainly get an earful of judgments, even if they are minor. We are usually so quick to point the finger at others, yet upon closer examination we may be guilty of the same things, or worse. In a world of self-righteous finger pointers, we have need of men and women of integrity who are willing to examine their own lives more closely. Little effort or thought is required to speak harshly of another. However, the greater challenge is holding ourselves to a higher standard for the purpose of setting an example. Far better, sometimes, to hold our tongues and let our actions speak for themselves. Then, when we absolutely must speak, our words will carry all the more weight. Here, I defer to the expert who wrote the instruction manual on human living. In the book of Matthew, Jesus said the following: “Do not judge so that you will not be judged. For in the way you judge, you will be judged; and by your standard of measure, it will be measured to you. Why do you look at the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, `Let me take the speck out of your eye,' and behold, the log is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's eye.” (Matthew 7:1-5) I think that about covers it. Let us, therefore, live well and refrain from speaking too hastily about others ... lest we be judged by our own standards.

Lest Ye Be Judged
Judge not, lest ye be judged
What others may say or do
For as you apply your standard to them
So it shall be measured to you
Where I find fault with another man
So fault shall be found with me
Each word I utter in judgment raises
My own responsibility
Judge not, lest ye be judged,
Show mercy as you would be shown
We dare not sit in the judgment seat
Which is reserved for God alone
Heap not the burning coals of wrath
Upon your own foolish head
By hastily judging another man
On what he has done or said
For all have fallen short of the mark
And failed by some degree
So what right have I to judge a man
Who is no more a sinner than me
Each man will have to answer to God
When he meets the Lord face to face
So rather than judge another man
Show grace as you would know grace
By Frank Carpenter ©

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

As we march headlong toward the holidays I wanted to follow up on my movie review of The Nativity Story with a poem about the other Christmas stories which abound at this time of year. Movies and assorted Christmas specials clog the theaters and airways, bombarding us with imaginary themes and a host of animated fictional characters offering various takes on the holiday. Most of us grew up on those characters and they may even hold a special place in our hearts. The catch is that they also cloud the true Christmas story and crowd its message to the side. These characters are the emissaries of a commercialized Christmas which has no resemblance to the original story or meaning. I encourage you, my fellow citizens to sort through the available Christmas stories in search of the truth. If it’s only about snowmen and reindeer and elves and presents, then we’re the merely the victims an organized subliminal conspiracy by retail empires who hope to make us feel merry … and therefore generous. However, a rudimentary etymological consideration of the word Christmas reveals that its root word is Christ. I believe that is the point. It’s not “Elfmas” or “Rudolfmas” or “Giftmas,” but Christmas, and those first six letters make all the difference. My hope and prayer for you this season is that you may rediscover the wonder of THE Christmas story. Then share it with your children and friends and family.

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 ©

The Nativity Story

Earlier this week I had the pleasure of attending an advance screening of The Nativity Story. I found this film to be very enjoyable and highly recommend it because it delivers just what it promises. What’s in a name? Since this movie is meant for everyone I began by looking up the word “nativity” in the dictionary to be sure it meant what I thought it did. No surprises: 1. the birth of Jesus Christ, which is celebrated by Christians at Christmas. 2. an artistic representation of the events surrounding the birth of Jesus Christ. That about covers it. I like this film because it seems to give an accurate portrayal of the events surrounding the birth of Christ, which is the original Christmas story, in a fairly unbiased way. The basic plot follows the text of the New Testament accurately, while tastefully adding the personal drama and character development which were necessary in order to make the story in to a feature length movie. This is the area where many religious movies fall flat, but in The Nativity Story it works flawlessly. That is because the producers let the main characters remain the simple and humble people that they actually were and refrained from adding social or denominational commentary. The Passion of the Christ, for example, contained a great deal of Catholic imagery which was not in the New Testament text and which I believe detracted from the story for others. You won’t find any of that here. Rather, the addition of the personal drama adds to the story and draws the audience into the emotions which were most likely experienced at the time.

Some evangelicals who are eager for a hard-hitting gospel message will be a little disappointed by The Nativity Story. However, that will be the result of their own expectations rather than the actual movie. This isn’t a movie about a controversial Jesus, his message or his death. It’s a movie about his historical birth and the events surrounding that time, as recorded in the gospels. The story is told from several personal perspectives. The wise men, who actually play too large a role, lay the scientific and prophetic foundation. Herod gives us a glimpse of the Roman occupation and what the threat a new Jewish king and messiah would pose to that empire. Against these two backdrops, along with painstakingly created sets and locations, weaves the personal story of Mary and Joseph, beautifully portrayed by Keisha Castle-Hughes and Oscar Isaac. They are simple and ordinary people drawn by God into the extraordinary miracle of the Hebrew messiah’s long foretold birth. I personally feel that throughout the story their personal interaction with God, one another, and their society stays true to the heart of the gospel text and message, even though many of the details are necessarily fictional.

In the final analysis, I highly recommend The Nativity Story. It retells the true Christmas story in a tasteful and sensitive manner, taking care to deliver the whole message without tainting it with any kind of agenda. This isn’t just a show to see with church groups and Sunday school classes because it’s meant to be enjoyed by everyone. In a world of video and special effects, The Nativity Story offers a valid way to retell this beloved story to our children and truly bring it to life for them. Yet, it also offers the opportunity for all of us adults to fall in love again with the message and the miracle of Christmas. So I encourage you to start the season off right by seeing The Nativity Story. Sharing it together is, perhaps, the best early gift you can give to your friends and loved ones.

“But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord.” Luke 2:10-11

More info at http://www.thenativitystory.com/ and in the Gospel of Luke, chapters 1-2

Origins

Well, it’s been a while since I stuck my scientific foot in my religious mouth so today seemed like as good a time as any. Throughout this long holiday weekend I’ve been in Colorado with family and have had the opportunity to observe countless Canadian Geese coming and going as they stopped along their migration route at a local lake. This served as a reminder that the whole concept of long distance migration is just one of the thousands of miracles in nature which I feel science has failed to explain adequately. This brings us to a poem I wrote recently about a subject of personal passion, but first I suppose that full disclosure is in order. OK, I’m one of those narrow-minded religious people who believes that maybe a God created everything. Now, before you change channels on me it must also be noted that those who tend to disagree with me are often even more narrow-minded and less willing to discuss the subject. I challenge you, therefore, to lend me you ear (or eyes) for a few moments of consideration.

Those who cling doggedly to the concept of evolution often seem to be missing the answers to many of its most critical questions. I think we would all agree that the stronger lion or the faster fish has a better chance of survival and is likely to pass on its potentially superior genes to the next generation. Maybe that causes a species to improve and change a bit over time. That’s called microevolution, where existing forms change through time. The problem occurs when a fish becomes a lizard or lizard becomes a bird. There are some huge gaps in the theory for that process, especially when we infer that the fish will eventually become a monkey and then a man. That is called macroevolution, or the changing from one thing to another completely different thing. Worse yet, back the clock up however many billion years you like to believe and we have no explanation of how life began to start with. Here’s how current evolutionary theory works in my over-simplified idiot layman’s terms: First there was nothing. Then it exploded. Then that nothing which had previously exploded sprang to life. Then it eventually became us. Call me crazy, but I think that takes a lot more faith than believing in a God who created things. You judge for yourself.

The fact is that the earth, and the myriad of complicated systems it contains, is too perfect. Furthermore, our own bodies are chockfull of organs, electrical impulses, chemical reactions and interactions, and complimentary and mutually dependent systems to have simply happened by accident, in my humble opinion. My extensive experience with things which have happened by accident leads me to believe we didn’t “just happen.” The human body contains somewhere between three and three hundred trillion cells, all of which seem to know exactly how to form, what to do, and when. Please tell me that’s not a miracle. I’m sorry, but the “how” seems so overwhelming that I must conclude that there might be a “who” involved.

Well, I’ve wandered way beyond the few moments I asked for today so let me leave you with a final thought. Take a look at the facts for yourself and see if they all add up. If you see any possibility of intelligent design or direction, “the Force,” or what some scientists are beginning to concede as “dark energy” then I propose that we need to consider the possibility of a creator. If there really is a creator, or a God, then that changes everything about our existence and even our possible purpose for existence. I’m simply not satisfied with being the most recent monkey design in the evolutionary chain … and I hope you aren’t either. If you have any questions or comments about this subject, feel free to email me at the address on the top of this page. In the mean time, I offer the following satirical poem for your consideration. Feel free to share it with others in order to stimulate additional conversation on this subject. Oh, and enjoy your accidental day at the top of the food chain.

Origins
The finer points of astrophysics can be difficult to understand
First there was nothing, then it exploded, that’s how it all began
Then one rock in particular began to orbit around our sun
Somehow covered itself with water, but the story wasn’t done
For over the course of millions of years, though it’s difficult to believe
Proteins and amino acids combined and simply began to breathe
Then that little glob of life, which had made itself somehow
Found a way, of course, to reproduce … before you know it, holy cow
It grew into bacteria, or some other odd pond scum
Then evolution kicked in, and that speck both deaf and dumb
Grew gills and guts and gonads, a stomach, heart and skin
Eyes and ears, a mouth, a liver, a brain and even fins
It spawned a thousand different species, then ten thousand more
Then grew some legs and lungs and finally crawled up on the shore
It had some kids with snake skin and some more with feathers too
And some cousins on whose heads a bit of hair eventually grew
Of course, the hairy ones were smarter so they made fire and tools
Which they held with opposable thumbs, and used to build new schools
With their lofty knowledge, developed in such institutions
They fired God and then began to worship evolution
So let’s recap the story of our origins and history
First there was nothing, then it exploded, then it began to breathe
Developing complex systems by accident, ignoring laws of entropy
Nothing turned into something and evolved, somehow, into me
And here I am at the top of the food chain, evolution’s lofty pedestal
The pinnacle of natural selection, lacking any purpose or soul
So don’t you tell me about creation, since I’m nobody’s fool
Evolution has to be true … because it’s all they teach in school
By Frank Carpenter ©

A Thankful Heart

I would simply like to pause this morning and wish my readers a happy Thanksgiving. This is traditionally an American holiday, but the concepts it is based upon are universal. In fact, one of the most important traits we could wish for is a thankful heart. We live in a world of unreasonable expectations and entitlement and so many folks seem to feel that the world, that life, and that even other people owe them something. We tend to focus on what we don’t have or what we’re missing in life instead of what we have already been blessed with. There’s nothing wrong with hopes and dreams and plans, or being motivated. However, the secret to happiness isn’t having what you want. Rather, it is the priceless gift of wanting what you have and that is the result of a thankful heart. Today is the perfect day to take a step back from your unrequited expectations and simply thank God for what you already have in your life. Your spouse and your children, your friends and even your odd relatives, all need hear that you are thankful for them, that they are enough. Today is the day to enjoy and appreciate what and who we have. The fact is that if you’re not happy with your relationships, possessions, health, prosperity or family at this time, it’s unlikely that a change in circumstances will satisfy you. Want what you have, be thankful, and you may surprised how your perspective on life will come around.

In closing, and back on the subject of Thanksgiving, I offer heartfelt holiday wish to you and yours. Remember to be thankful … and to express it to those you love. As a literary offering today, I give a poem by my personal favorite poet, Edgar A. Guest.

The Old-Fashioned Thanksgiving
(Edgar Albert Guest, 1881-1959)
It may be I am getting old and like too much to dwell
Upon the days of bygone years, the days I loved so well;
But thinking of them now I wish somehow that I could know
A simple old Thanksgiving Day, like those of long ago,
When all the family gathered round a table richly spread,
With little Jamie at the foot and grandpa at the head,
The youngest of us all to greet the oldest with a smile,
With mother running in and out and laughing all the while.
It may be I'm old-fashioned, but it seems to me to-day
We're too much bent on having fun to take the time to pray;
Each little family grows up with fashions of its own;
It lives within a world itself and wants to be alone.
It has its special pleasures, its circle, too, of friends;
There are no get-together days; each one his journey wends,
Pursuing what he likes the best in his particular way,
Letting the others do the same upon Thanksgiving Day.
I like the olden way the best, when relatives were glad
To meet the way they used to do when I was but a lad;
The old home was a rendezvous for all our kith and kin,
And whether living far or near they all came trooping in
With shouts of "Hello, daddy!" as they fairly stormed the place
And made a rush for mother, who would stop to wipe her face
Upon her gingham apron before she kissed them all,
Hugging them proudly to her breast, the grownups and the small.
Then laughter rang throughout the home, and, Oh, the jokes they told;
From Boston, Frank brought new ones, but father sprang the old;
All afternoon we chatted, telling what we hoped to do,
The struggles we were making and the hardships we'd gone through;
We gathered round the fireside. How fast the hours would fly--
It seemed before we'd settled down 'twas time to say good-bye.
Those were the glad Thanksgivings, the old-time families knew
When relatives could still be friends and every heart was true.

Somewhere Beyond

My regular readers will not be surprised to discover that today’s ponderings are based upon a sailing metaphor. The undeniable fact is that I love the ocean and derive great pleasure from boating. However, while I speak and write constantly of far horizons and distant shores, I rarely get very far from home. In fact there’s a very clear line I never seem to cross, at least on my own. That point is a local island which lies just the right distance offshore for a weekend away and, like a homing pigeon, I return to it time and again. Other islands call from a hazy distance and beckon to me from the maps I so love to study, but they hover beyond the reach of convenience. Comfortable anchorages, tired crews and Monday morning work schedules always seem to hold me at bay. So we never make it around the point to the next island … or the big wide world which lies beyond it.

I believe most of us have such lines of demarcation in our lives. We love to dream. We love to talk. Yet we never seem willing to round that final point and abandon the safety of familiar shores. Sometimes we can even see the next islands off in the distance, but we know that rougher waters must be traversed in order to reach them. In effect, like many who lived before the time of Columbus, we allow our fear and ignorance to determine the size and shape or our personal worlds. Is there a point in your own life which you can’t seem to cross? It could be geographical, relational, spiritual, vocational, financial or emotional. Do you keep sailing to the edge and turning back, like the coastal navigators of old? Let this be your wake up call. Somewhere beyond that next point of land, shrouded in the dreamlike haze of the unknown, lie the far horizons of the future. They beckon us to brave the oceans of life and set sail to discover them, to plant our flags upon their exotic shores and claim them as our own.

So join me, if you will fellow travelers. It’s high time to haul our anchors up out of the mud, hoist our sails and venture beyond the familiar harbors which we have haunted for far too long. The world is your oyster, and it’s waiting for you … somewhere beyond that last point of land. I believe all that remains to be said is, “bon voyage.”

Somewhere Beyond
Somewhere beyond that point ahead
An open ocean beckons to me
Beyond where no stone or human voice
Taints the broad and trackless sea
One final landmark, one last island
Then this continent will be gone
Thence the ocean, like my dreams
Stretches on and on and on
I hear it singing on the wind
I feel its tugging swell
This sea, the vixen of my soul
Whose voice I know so well
It whispers from beyond the point
Of shores I’ve yet to know
My heart is drawn beyond that point
Where I must someday go
By Frank Carpenter ©

Veterans Day

Fellow citizens, let us not forget that this Saturday, November 11th, is Veterans Day. I believe this should be one of our most cherished national holidays because it honors those who have served our country in the military. It was originally Armistice Day, set aside to honor those who served in WWI, since that was the first real global conflict and considered the “war to end all wars.” Then WWII came along, which was even bigger and the holiday was expanded to cover it as well. We now recognize Veterans Day as being devoted to all service men and women who have served in conflicts abroad on our behalf. And we continue to be at war, even today. Without belaboring our current conflict or any political ramifications thereof, let me just encourage all my fellow Americans to pause for a moment to reflect upon the service and sacrifice of all those who have fought to defend not only our freedoms, but the freedom of countless others around the world. Let’s thank God for what they have done and let us also, as a nation, pray for the safety and courage of those who are currently serving on our behalf. Ironically, freedom isn’t free ... and this day is set aside for the purpose of honoring those who best understand what the real cost is. I actually began writing today’s poem on Memorial Day but never quite got closure. This weekend, however, when I began to think about Veterans Day, the words finally gelled. If you know someone in the military take the time to write, call or pray for them. If you know someone who served in the past, do the same … and don’t forget to thank them. Veterans Day is a day of mourning and a day of gratitude. It is a day when we remember our obligations not only to our own great nation, but to others who count upon us the world over. Let us be a nation who remembers, and be sure to remind others what day it is and why we celebrate it. If you are interested, you will find below my poem a history of Veterans Day which makes very interesting reading. May God bless America, now and always.

The Cost of Freedom
As we consider Veterans Day
Let us remember what this day means
Let us remember the rows of head stones
Stretching across the fields of green
Each stands in tribute to those fallen
On behalf of this nation we share
Men and women who proudly served
Who paid with their last breath of air
For the lofty ideals of democracy
For the freedom of each of us
Often dying in far away lands
While never betraying our trust
Freedom isn’t free at all
It is costly beyond compare
Purchased by the precious blood
Of heroes, and loved one’s despair
So as we celebrate Veterans Day
In this land of the brave and free
May we be ever mindful
Of the awesome responsibility
We owe to those who have fallen
Whom our nation was built upon
Let us fight to preserve that freedom
So our children may carry it on
By Frank Carpenter ©

HISTORY OF VETERANS DAY
Official recognition of the end of the first modern global conflict -- World War I - - was made in a concurrent resolution (44 Stat. 1982) enacted by Congress on June 4, 1926, with these words:
WHEREAS the 11th of November 1918, marked the cessation of the most destructive, sanguinary, and far reaching war in human annals and the resumption by the people of the United States of peaceful relations with other nations, which we hope may never again be severed, and
WHEREAS it is fitting that the recurring anniversary of this date should be commemorated with thanksgiving and prayer and exercises designed to perpetuate peace through good will and mutual understanding between nations; and
WHEREAS the legislatures of twenty-seven of our States have already declared November 11 to be a legal holiday: Therefore be it Resolved by the Senate (the House of Representatives concurring), That the President of the United States is requested to issue a proclamation calling upon the officials to display the flag of the United States on all Government buildings on November 11 and inviting the people of the United States to observe the day in schools and churches, or other suitable places, with appropriate ceremonies of friendly relations with all other peoples.
An Act (52 Stat. 351; 5 U. S. Code, Sec. 87a) approved May 13, 1938, and the 11th of November in each year a legal holiday - - a day to be dedicated to the cause of world peace and to be hereafter celebrated and known as " Day. " Armistice Day was primarily a day set aside to honor veterans of World War I, but in 1954, after World War II had required the greatest mobilization of soldiers, sailors, marines and airmen in the Nation's history; after American forces had fought aggression in Korea, the 83rd Congress, at the urging of the veterans service organizations, amended the Act of 1938 by striking out the word "Armistice" and inserting in lieu thereof the word "Veterans. " With the approval of this legislation (Public Law 380) on June 1, 1954, November 11th became a day to honor American veterans of all wars.
Later that same year, on October 8th, President Dwight D. Eisenhower issued the first “Veterans Day Proclamation " which stated:
"In order to insure proper and widespread observance of this anniversary, all veterans, all veterans' organizations, and the entire citizenry will wish to join hands in the common purpose. Toward this end, I am designating the Administrator of Veterans' Affairs as Chairman of a Veterans Day National Committee, which shall include such other persons as the Chairman may select, and which will coordinate at the national level necessary planning for the observance. I am also requesting the heads of all departments and agencies of the Executive branch of the Government to assist the National Committee in every way possible."
A letter from the President to the Honorable Harvey V. Higley, Administrator of Veterans' Affairs, was sent on the same date designating him to serve as Chairman. In 1958, the White House advised the VA's General Counsel that there was no need for another letter of appointment for each new Administrator, as the original proclamation in 1954 established the Committee with the Administrator of Veterans' Affairs as Chairman. The Uniforms Holiday Bill (Public Law 90-363 (82 Stat. 250)) was signed on June 28, 1968, and was intended to insure three-day weekends for Federal employees by celebrating four national holidays on Mondays- - Washington's Birthday, Memorial Day, Veterans Day, and Columbus Day. It was thought that these extended weekends would encourage travel, recreational and cultural activities and stimulate greater industrial and commercial production. Many states did not agree with this decision and continued to celebrate the holidays on their original dates. The first Veterans Day under the new law was observed with much confusion on October 25, 1971. It was quite apparent that the commemoration of this day was a matter of historic and patriotic significance to a great number of our citizens, and so on September 20th, 1975, President Gerald R. Ford signed Public Law 94-97 (89 Stat. 479), which returned the annual observance of Veterans Day to its original date of November 11, beginning in 1978. This action supported the express will of the overwhelming majority of the State legislatures, all major service organizations and the American people. The restoration of the observance of Veterans Day to November 11 not only reserves the historical significance of the date, but helps focus attention on the important purpose of Veterans Day: a celebration to honor America's veterans for their patriotism, love of country, and willingness to serve and sacrifice for the common good.
This information came from the following web site at: http://www1.va.gov/vetsday/page.cfm?pg=3

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. 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 help to 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 bourn for a lifetime. So let us choose carefully, lest the unforgiving minute should catch us unawares. 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 ©

Facing the Giants

Once again, I’d like to pause and recommend a movie to my readers. If you are a person of faith, then I believe Facing the Giants is a must see. I really enjoyed this film! It's a small movie with a big heart and a very inspirational message. Facing the Giants won't be nominated for any Oscars. In fact, virtually every aspect of production falls below what I would usually expect at the theater. However, it's also an anomaly in that it's an evangelical story that stays true to its calling and wins you over with the heart and message. If you are a Christian who is tired of big budget special effects films and arrogant actors then Facing the Giants is worth discovering. This is the story of a small parochial high school with a losing football team that has also lost touch with their faith-based education and focus. One broken man with a good heart helps the whole school rediscover itself and that transformation plays out on the football field. This is a movie to take your kids and church groups to and I strongly believe that it deserves our interest and support because it serves a higher purpose without making the compromises that Hollywood usually requires for such a story to be told. Facing the Giants has been out for a while, but it's still around in a few theaters and I strongly encourage you to find a theater that still has it playing and take everyone you know out to the movies. In that way, maybe we can keep it playing a little longer. The very fact that this simple, but important, little film is on the big screen is a testament to its title.

Solitude

I have the good fortune to be staying near Zion National Park this weekend and we’ve seen some amazing country the past day or so. The nature of my current trip is that I get several hours of time alone out in the wilderness each day while my fellow travelers are occupied with other activities. I know some people would dread such time, but for me it comes as a golden opportunity. I crave the wilderness and love a little solitude now and then. Being fairly distractible, I sometimes have trouble relaxing in the midst of my busy life. However, nature relaxes and recharges me. Indeed, I firmly believe that we were designed to respond to the wonders of creation. So I’ve been out hiking, exploring and writing by myself. I even had a nice long nap under a pine tree in the middle of nowhere. We are clearly sociable animals, but we also need to take time away from people occasionally. At this very moment I’m sitting out by a river enjoying the sound of the water. The moon is up and the crickets have just begun their evening serenade. What could be more relaxing or refreshing? These are the kind of moments which calm my spirit and cause me to think more deeply. In this place, at this time of day, the feeling of peacefulness is almost palpable and an overwhelming sense of well being has descended upon me. It’s my favorite kind of feeling. I hope and pray that you may find such corners in your own life to enjoy solitude and I offer one of the poems I penned this afternoon which I hope will provide some inspiration.

Solitude
The world is filled with distractions
And attractions of every kind
Bombarding our senses each waking hour
But where can a man unwind
Where can he flee when his spirit
Longs for a peaceful interlude
When he wishes to keep his own counsel
And find the wisdom of solitude
Then he must flee from the city
Beyond the reaches of men
Beyond the walls of brick and steel
Which enslave his heart time and again
For out in the open spaces
Where only the sound of the wind
Whispers into a man’s weary heart
Can he can hear the still small voice within
By Frank Carpenter ©

Solitude

I have the good fortune to be staying near Zion National Park this weekend and we’ve seen some amazing country the past day or so. The nature of my current trip is that I get several hours of time alone out in the wilderness each day while my fellow travelers are occupied with other activities. I know some people would dread such time, but for me it comes as a golden opportunity. I crave the wilderness and love a little solitude now and then. Being fairly distractible, I sometimes have trouble relaxing in the midst of my busy life. However, nature relaxes and recharges me. Indeed, I firmly believe that we were designed to respond to the wonders of creation. So I’ve been out hiking, exploring and writing by myself. I even had a nice long nap under a pine tree in the middle of nowhere. We are clearly sociable animals, but we also need to take time away from people occasionally. At this very moment I’m sitting out by a river enjoying the sound of the water. The moon is up and the crickets have just begun their evening serenade. What could be more relaxing or refreshing? These are the kind of moments which calm my spirit and cause me to think more deeply. In this place, at this time of day, the feeling of peacefulness is almost palpable and an overwhelming sense of well being has descended upon me. It’s my favorite kind of feeling. I hope and pray that you may find such corners in your own life to enjoy solitude and I offer one of the poems I penned this afternoon which I hope will provide some inspiration.

Solitude
The world is filled with distractions
And attractions of every kind
Bombarding our senses each waking hour
But where can a man unwind
Where can he flee when his spirit
Longs for a peaceful interlude
When he wishes to keep his own counsel
And find the wisdom of solitude
Then he must flee from the city
Beyond the reaches of men
Beyond the walls of brick and steel
Which enslave his heart time and again
For out in the open spaces
Where only the sound of the wind
Whispers into a man’s weary heart
Can he can hear the still small voice within
By Frank Carpenter ©

Honor and Pride

We had the privilege last night of attending a graduation ceremony at the San Bernardino County Sheriff’s Department Academy, where two young friends of our family have just completed their law enforcement training. Having had no previous exposure to such an event, we were amazed at how meaningful it turned out to be. First of all, I personally felt a little naked, lacking both a uniform and a sidearm. Once I got over that, however, the evening was truly inspiring. When an evening begins with an impressive color guard unit, the national anthem and an invocation which is actually a prayer to God, a patriotic conservative like me can rest assured that what follows will generally be worthwhile. It did not disappoint. What I witnessed was an extremely devoted group of trainers and administrators taking time to honor a class of young men and women who have spent 23 weeks preparing for an important, and often dangerous, career in law enforcement. Their pride, tradition and commitment were evident and offered us a fresh perspective on those who work to protect and serve us every day.

Upon reflection, I have come to realize that our law enforcement officers are some of the truly
unsung heroes of modern society. They got a little extra respect immediately following September 11, having lost many of their own in the World Trade Center, but we continue thank them far too rarely. In the past I have written at length about those who serve in the military, but last night reminded me that those who serve in law enforcement are our neighborhood military, helping to keep the streets safe for all of us. For that service, we all owe a significant debt of gratitude. The keynote speaker at last night’s commencement quoted some previous remarks made by Chief Justice Warren Berger at an FBI academy graduation which I felt were particularly poignant. I was unable to find the exact quotes on the internet, but take the liberty of paraphrasing them. The main point was that a peace officer lives every day upon the front line of the law. In a very real way our government, justice system, laws and national values intersect with citizens through those who serve in law enforcement. They must act on behalf of both the letter and heart of the law, having the unique privilege and responsibility to interpret and enforce that law and the will of people whom they serve. And sometimes this must even be done under fire. Every day we call upon them to make value judgments which affect their lives, the lives of others and the community at large. That is a great deal to ask of any individual. For this, I call upon all my fellow citizens to offer both their appreciation and gratitude.

Perhaps the heart of what I felt last night, and what I also wish to share with others, is best captured by the law enforcement code of ethics which the entire graduating class recited from memory at the close of the ceremony. I offer it below, along with a fond hope that all of us will endeavor to show the appropriate respect which our men and women in law enforcement deserve. So I close today with a heartfelt congratulations to Kyle, James and their entire class of highly trained graduates. We salute your honor and pride.

Code of Ethics
As a Law Enforcement Officer, my fundamental duty is to serve mankind; to safeguard lives and property; to protect the innocent against deception, the weak against oppression or intimidation, and the peaceful against violence or disorder; and to respect the Constitutional Rights of all persons to liberty, equality, and justice.

I will keep my private life unsullied as an example to all; maintain courageous calm in the face of danger, scorn, or ridicule; develop self-restraint; and be constantly mindful of the welfare of others. Honest in thought and deed in both my personal and official life, I will be exemplary in obeying the laws of the land and the regulations of my department. Whatever I see or hear of a confidential nature or that is confided to me in my official capacity will be kept ever secret unless revelation is necessary in the performance of my duty.

I will never act officiously or permit personal feelings, prejudices, animosities, or friendships to influence my decisions. With no compromise for crime and with relentless prosecution of criminals, I will enforce the law courteously and appropriately without fear or favor, malice, or violence and never accepting gratuities.

I recognize the badge of my office as a symbol of public faith, and I accept it as a public trust to be held so long as I am true to the ethics of law enforcement. I will constantly strive to achieve these objectives and ideals, dedicating myself before God to my chosen profession.... law enforcement.

Heart of Oak

I had occasion this past week to tour the U.S.S. Constitution, the oldest naval vessel afloat in the world. Any of my regular readers will know that I have a soft spot for ships and the sea, but I was especially impressed with this particular American icon. The Constitution was commissioned in 1797, when Thomas Jefferson was president, in an effort to bolster our fledgling navy. She was of a new design and built heavily from several kinds of virgin American oak, almost two feet thick in some areas of her hull. She received the nickname “Old Ironsides” after a battle with a British ship in the War of 1812, during which some of the enemy cannonballs were said to have bounced off her sides. After a long and distinguished career she grew old and nearly rotted out of existence on two different occasions. However, this proud ship seems to have a special place in the collective American heart because she has twice been brought back from near extinction and has just finished yet another complete restoration. Even though the Constitution is a 225 year old sailing ship, it remains on the list of active vessels with the U.S. Navy and still sails once in a while. I believe America loves this old ship because she represents something uniquely American. She was the first full fledged heavy ship of war designed and built in this country and she proved herself superior at a time that our new nation needed such an icon. Now she provides a valuable link with our past, our freedom, and its ongoing preservation.

If you ever have a chance to visit the U.S.S. Constitution in Boston I strongly encourage it, but it’s also easy to Google and read about as well. We have a rich naval heritage and such icons as this ship serve as a valuable reminder thereof. Much of what made her so formidable in her day, and the reason she is so worth preserving now, has to do with what she represents to us as a people. Old Ironsides has been around nearly as long as this great nation and continues to be a valuable part of our legacy of freedom. Also, in times like these when our young men and women are being called upon to fight overseas on our behalf, she serves as a welcome reminder of what they are fighting for. I have several young friends at the Naval Academy and currently serving in our Navy overseas as well. So I dedicate today’s poem to them and to their valued service on behalf of our country at sea and abroad.

Heart of Oak
They have often called her Ironsides
Though she was not iron at all
But oak of North America
And built for duty’s call
To spearhead the fledgling navy
Of these newly united states
And defend their shores and borders
As the keeper of their gates
Constructed by New England craftsmen
Upon their native soil
Which they so recently had won
Through blood and strife and toil
She was the vessel and a symbol
Of their new found liberty
And she never met her equal
In her service on the sea
No enemy by force has ever
Set foot upon her decks
She never knew defeat in battle
Where she earned honor and respect
The U.S.S. Constitution
Still floats proud and tall
An enduring icon from our past
With a message for us all
Peace and freedom come through struggle
And when swirls the battle smoke
Freedom still needs men and ships
With hearts of American oak
By Frank Carpenter ©

You can learn more about the Constitution by clicking on the following link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/USS_Constitution

Remembering September 11th

Today is September 11th, the 5th anniversary of the attack on America. I am in Boston today, the cradle of American freedom and democracy. The tragedy of September 11 was brought home to me yesterday afternoon when we came upon a monument in the Public Garden commemorating the Bostonians who lost their lives on that day, including a list of those names. Here, on the east coast, the loss seems all the more poignant. I have included a photo of part of that memorial herewith. Early this morning, I walked to historic Trinity Church to pray and they, like so many other institutions, are hosting multiple services to honor the fallen we remember today. As I walked back, several planes were flying above the city towing American flags and signs with the words, “We will never forget.” I have written many times before about the military and political aspects of this day and our long term response, but today is simply a day to remember. In order to put its scope into prospective once again, let’s review the casualty statistics once again. Here are how many people we lost at each attack venue:
In the Twin Towers 2595
Flight 11 92
Flight 175 65
In the Pentagon 125
Flight 77 64
Shanksville, Pennsylvania
Flight 93 45

A total of 2, 986 people lost their lives that day. Yet, that is only part of the story. Based upon that unthinkable number, consider how many widows, orphans and widowers were left, along with how many people must have lost sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, grandparents, grandchildren, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends and so forth. The impact to families, congregations, corporate staffs, neighborhoods and the like makes for a staggering set of permutations, not to mention the emotional effect on the rest of us all these thousands of miles away. As we digest those numbers, let us remember that more Americans were killed on September 11th than we have lost in three years of armed conflict in Afghanistan and Iraq combined. As an additional point of reference, only 2, 403 Americans were killed in the attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941. However, in stark contrast, the victims of the attacks on September 11th were all unarmed civilians, which makes their mass murder all the more heinous. No, we really should never forget.

The people behind those attacks have also been responsible for the attacks in Madrid bombing and the more recent bombings in England. These people clearly are not satisfied with military targets. They are after you and me and our children and our very way of life. We really cannot afford to forget.

The news and media are abuzz today with special reports and live coverage of memorial services being held in New York, the Pentagon, Pennsylvania and various other locations. Churches are holding services. Signs and flags are up everywhere. In the midst of these tributes let us join together once again to console one another, let us remember … and let us turn to face future threats against us by presenting a united front. We said we would never forget … may it be so.

Tracks

No matter what we say, no matter how we portray ourselves to others, time always tells the true tale of a man’s or woman’s life. When we, or others, look back over the life we have lead, the footprints we have left behind will reveal much about our lives. I’ve heard it said that hindsight is always 20/20 and there is great wisdom in that statement. We may fool others, we may even fool ourselves, but those who look upon our tracks afterward will see clearly where our paths have actually lead. And, without a doubt, God always knows where we’ve been and what we have done as well. Armed with that knowledge, perhaps we would be wise to reconsider the course of our lives on a regular basis and endeavor to select trails that will produce the legacy we would choose to leave in our wakes. All of us have made our share of poor choices in the past, but every day offers us fresh opportunities to chart a new course ... and the chance to leave a new and better trail behind us.

Tracks
I was walking in the desert
with no living thing in sight
Yet, across the sand were countless tracks
left by creatures in the night
I was struck by the diversity
of the tiny prints I found
From every creature who had recently
crossed that patch of lonely ground
And even with my knowledge
which was limited at best
I could tell much about the animals
with but an educated guess
I could make out snakes and lizards
rabbits, bugs and mice and birds
Guess their speed and their direction
without a book or spoken word
All these things were clearly evident
not hard to see or understand
Like tiny signatures each creature
left upon the empty desert sand
And it comes to mind that each
of us has left a trail too
Surely in the snow or desert
sand or early morning dew
But, more importantly, our tracks
are left upon the life we’ve led
By the things we have accomplished
we have created or we’ve said
Some will leave their tracks in ink
or paint, or notes upon a page
Some will leave impressions made
by acts of kindness or of rage
Some will build and some will plant
throughout their journey here
Leaving tracks on countless strangers
and the people they hold dear
However lightly we may step
upon the sands we cross each day
Our tracks will surely tell the tale
long after we have passed that way
What story will my own tracks tell
when others come upon
My foot prints in the sand of life
once I have traveled on?
Will the direction which they indicate
the pace, the gait, the girth
Point to a life of purpose
one of merit and of worth?
Will they indicate that I’d not
passed this way, somehow, in vain?
That I had left a wake of kindness
rather than a trail of pain
The tracks I want the world to find
are ones that served my fellow man
Tracks that honor what I cherished most
and obeyed my Master’s plan
So I shall choose my steps more carefully
for now I better understand
The kind of tracks I want to leave ...
where once I scurried across the sand
By Frank Carpenter ©

Divided We Fall

It’s interesting how we always seem to divide ourselves up into various groups. Whether political, geographical, cultural, racial, religious or whatever, folks feel the need to take sides and that’s how we get into the various global pickles like we are in today … and always have been. Divisions are drawn, enforced and invariably benefit the class at the top of whatever system they have created. Not surprisingly, once a system is established, the bias spreads to every group involved. It would be easy for me to cite dark moments in history or spin the globe and point to almost any nation to discuss examples of how we have classified and misused our fellow man. However, today I’d just like to share the following poem and let you see what comes to mind. Certain races, nations and religions seem to have suffered more through the centuries, but we each have our own lens of experience and concern. What I ask is that you think it through, or pray it through if that’s your nature, because simply taking a step back and looking at the world from a different perspective can be half the battle. Where are the walls built in your own life? Where are the lines drawn? Did you inherit them or come up with them yourself? If we consider such questions honestly the world could be a better place … and we owe that to our children. I hope you enjoy the poem and find it thought provoking.

Divided We Fall
Brick upon brick, we build our walls
With blocks of resentment and pride
We raise up lofty barricades
Then, drawing lines, step to one side
Proclaiming we, the elite, shall stand
Over here, where no one else may
We demand that everyone take his place
Or there will be hell to pay
Through the ages we've added more bricks
And a host of new rules to the game
Clouding the issues and stirring the pot
But the outcome is always the same
It is always the group who draws the lines
And imposes them on the rest
Which seems to have the most to gain
And which seems to become obsessed
With making sure that only a few
May have the privileges they have known
For if all men were equal they'd have to share
The spoils they claim as their own
While the rest of humanity cowers outside
Degraded and left in the cold
By a system which robs them of their rights
Crushing even the wise and the bold
Yet, the greatest injustice about the system
Each man has been shackled within
Is the shallowness of the parameters
Which doom him before he can begin
Neither race, nor creed, nor country
Are the sum of any being
They are merely the cover of a book
Which may contain treasures unseen
Any system that judges a man
By his temporal exterior
Has done a disservice to all of mankind
By promoting dissension and fear
For only a system which looks each man
In the eye without judging him first
Is worthy of judging a man at all
Without predestining him to be cursed
So the next time you find a brick in your hand
And you're tempted to work on a wall
Find a bridge that needs repair
And do a service to us all
By Frank Carpenter ©

Long May it Wave

I saw the movie “World Trade Center” this past week and strongly recommend it. It’s a little slow in the middle, but that’s only because they are trying to tell the story of the agonizing time two NYPD officers spent trapped in the rubble between the towers. In this case, the attack on September 11 has been captured through their personal tragedy and the efforts of those who rescued them, which is an extremely relevant view point. Mercifully, Oliver Stone also gave us a movie unclouded by conspiracies or political commentary. I firmly believe that we, as Americans, need to see these movies and discuss them. What worries me the most however, is the underwhelming response to this movie at the box office. Just like “United Flight 93,” it will make a little money but folks aren’t flocking to see these important films. I find this troubling because it shows a lack of desire in our fellow citizens to relive the emotions of that important day in our history as a nation. September 11 is, if I may borrow a phrase from FDR, “a day that will live in infamy” forever. It has and will continue to define our domestic and international policy perhaps for decades to come. Yet, folks don’t want to think about it anymore. They want to watch reality shows, complain about air travel and talk about American Idol. After those fateful attacks we all hung out our flags, went to church together, sang patriotic songs and swore that we would never be the same again … that we would never forget. We rekindled a patriotism we had not known for decades and pledged allegiance like never before. Yet, folks have begun to forget and return to their original apathy. Our enemies have not. Those who sought to do us harm in 2001, and actually for twenty years prior to that, remain resolutely bent on the destruction of our way of life. We’ve made some significant inroads in the war on terrorism, but they are still out there and our resolve must not fail us.

I could fill volumes with partisan quotes, current events and the like. For now, however, suffice it to say that we must remain ever vigilant and our patriotism must not wane. This great nation could never be overthrown militarily by any country in the world, but we are highly susceptible to the slow poisons of apathy, adversity and partisanship. While we continue to be attacked from without, the real danger is that we shall fail to continue presenting a united front and lose the battle from within. We possess the most powerful and sophisticated arsenal of weaponry in the world and in history. We have the best trained and equipped military of any nation. However, our secret weapon, and our Achilles heal, is our national pride and patriotism. After the attack on Pearl Harbor Japanese Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto stated, “I fear all we have done is to awaken a sleeping giant and fill him with a terrible resolve.” I heard that quote repeated after 9/11, but we seem to be struggling to maintain our resolve. The question remains whether this giant can stay awake long enough to achieve victory in the current conflicts which face us. I hope and pray it may be so.

My literary offering today is a poem which I wrote during those emotional weeks following 9/11. I hope that my fellow citizens will take these words to heart and remember the way we felt back then. We swore we would never forget. Have you?

Long May It Wave
Everyone has their flags out lately
On cars and houses most everywhere
And the words of the God Bless America
Seem to be echoing through the air
Our response to the recent tragedy
Has been overwhelming, it’s true
With a nation rallying as one
Around the old red, white and blue
But once this current crisis is over
Once we have mourned our dead
Will our new found patriotism
Begin to fade in the months ahead
I hope and pray that it shall not
That our commitment will endure
That this is a new America
And not just the one du jour
For the way to honor our fallen
To prove our lofty words are true
Is to continue our patriotism
And stand by the red, white and blue
Let us cherish the land of the free
And remain the home of the brave
Taking pride in our mighty nation
And her flag, long may it wave
By Frank Carpenter ©

Some Additional Thoughts

In my previous entry I wrote of a friend’s recent heart attack and how that might help to put our daily lives into perspective. My thoughts, at the time, were more general in nature. However, upon reflection, I thought it might be appropriate to make some additional comments. Last time I glanced over the more difficult spiritual aspects of that subject, but today I wish to explore them a little further. This event serves as a reminder of just how frail our lives can be. We tend to think of life in terms of years, thinking statistically and actuarially. That’s fine for general purposes, but we must always remember that statistics are based upon averages, which by nature tend to mask the figures at each end of the scale that balance out in the averaging process. Some people live to 102 and others only live until 30. The averages we tend to rely upon emotionally help us to forget that life isn’t actually fair and offers no guarantees. That’s a lovely thought, but mark my words: life is not fair and there are no guarantees.

We tend to dwell on what we’ve got planned tonight, this weekend, next summer or during our retirement. Yet I am compelled to ask the burning question, “What are your plans for forever?” Ouch, that’s certainly politically incorrect, but it needs to be asked because it’s really the most important question of all. Perhaps it’s most important to anyone whom I may just have offended with that very question. Now before you hit the delete button and continue surfing I beg you to hear me out. It’s certainly easy to glance over the big religious questions. You wouldn’t dream of going away for the weekend or on a vacation, even camping, without making a reservation first. Most people purchase health insurance in case they get sick, auto insurance in case of an accident and they buy life insurance to protect their family in the event of an untimely death. Yet, they think very little about heaven and eternity. Yet in the event of an untimely death, spiritual life insurance might come mighty handy. After all forever, simply by definition, is really a long time. Ok, that’s my cute insurance metaphor, but please continue reading.

The fact is that this life doesn’t last forever and often times it turns out to be much shorter than we might have anticipated. It’s also filled with statistical anomalies so forever could technically begin at any time. We don’t like to think about the “bad stuff” but it happens. Let’s face it, as soon as you slip in the bath tub or choke on the odd chicken bone you basically skip all the second chances and advance straight to the end of the bible. I like to call it spontaneous revelation because the hereafter, whatever it holds, begins at that moment. I believe that there is a heaven and that the only way to get there is to acknowledge Jesus Christ as the son of God and accept His sacrificial death and resurrection as payment for our personal sins. He is the bridge to God and to a heavenly eternity with our Creator. I don’t believe that God grades on a curve or that “all good people go to heaven” because there is no clear delineation of where that good/bad line is to be drawn. The New Testament clearly and repeatedly makes the case that Jesus is the only path to salvation and He said so himself on multiple occasions. Old Testament prophecy also points directly towards both Him and His message. Jesus is the undeniable link between our temporary lives here on earth and the eternal promise of a better life beyond this one. And if I’m right then the alternative, the one without Jesus, starts to look really ugly.

I’ve shared my personal beliefs with you and I’m sure that there are other people in your own life who would tell you the same if you seek them out. The main point is that we need to deal with these questions now instead of sometime in a hazy future someday which may never come. If you wish to converse with me directly, my email can be found at the top of this site. Just be sure to include your own contact information so that I can get back to you. In the mean time I offer the following poem, which takes a more humorous approach to this serious subject. Perhaps it even offers a light hearted introduction for some of you to begin discussing this subject with others whom you care about. Have a blessed day, but take time to consider your plans for the future as well.

Brimstones & Chicken Bones
(The Doctrine of Spontaneous Revelation)
We all have business to do with God
but we’re young and in our prime
So we put Him off year after year
assuming there’s plenty of time
We know Jesus is coming back someday
but who knows when that will be
People keep saying end times are near
but no one’s sure about prophecy
In fact, it’s so darn confusing
we don’t like to think about it at all
Since folks have been worried for centuries
and have yet to hear the trumpet call
So we kind of make this deal with God
that we’ll be good or better than most
Then we set the spiritual cruise control
so we can just kick back and coast
Figuring we’ve got a lifetime ahead
to sacrifice, give and serve
And if the Lord comes back just bad folks
will get what they deserve
However, the flaw in our reasoning
which so many of us fail to see
Is that if we should die unexpectedly
we advance from here to eternity
We have merely to slip in the bathtub
or choke on the odd chicken bone
And suddenly, all the choices we’ve made
shall be etched in eternity’s stone
In that realm beyond second chances
where each man answers to God at last
For all that he did, and didn’t do
in the irrevocable past
Let’s call it spontaneous revelation
that day when you go to the head of the class
To discover that God doesn’t grade on a curve
it’s strictly fail or pass
When your backup chute fails to open
whether or not your doctrine is sound
You better have your affairs in order
long before you reach the ground
Because the next stop is forever
so your fire insurance better be paid
You won’t get to choose between smoking or non
unless a reservation was made
Your cholesterol count doesn’t matter
nor how much dough you have socked away
Once you step onto the railroad tracks
you’ll be meeting God straight away
Don’t be lulled into complacency
for no matter how safe you feel
You may have one foot on solid ground
but the other is on a banana peel
So never put off until tomorrow
what the Lord requires of you today
Lest spontaneous revelation
should steal your second chances away
By Frank Carpenter ©

As If It Were the Last

I was quite shaken to learn that a very dear friend had suffered a serious heart attack over the weekend. I thank God that he is fine and back home from the hospital now, but it was touch and go for a while. He didn’t just wander into the doctor’s office or hospital to have some tests run. No, he simply keeled over and stopped breathing. No warning. No cry for help. No final words of wisdom or blessing like in the movies. He is alive only because his golf buddies performed CPR, there was a doctor near at hand and a portable defibrillator was available. He was, in fact, spared because of a unique set of circumstances and, I daresay, divine intervention. Thank God my friend is alive, because it could easily have gone otherwise. His experience also brings back a host of related emotions from my own heart episode a few years ago. The point here is that life does not guarantee any warnings or second chances. In fact, this may be the only warning you get, which leads us to the rest of today’s message.

If you are anything like me, you probably keep putting some important things in your life off. We all have little (or large) health issues, relationships that need mending, wisdom we meant to impart to our children, issues we planned to resolve in the faith area of our lives. Oh, there’s plenty of time left, we’ll get around to those unresolved items “someday.” Ah, yes, someday. The proverbial procrastination until tomorrow. I’ll call and apologize tomorrow. I’ll start my diet tomorrow. I’ll pray or read the bible tomorrow. I’ll pay my taxes tomorrow. Feel free to insert your own tomorrow “to do list” into the equation. This is more than just a casual walk in the poetic park for me, it is the story of my ever-loving life. Defer, delay, deny ... until it screams or catches on fire. Let us, however, briefly consider that least considered of actuarial scenarios which each of us tries desperately to keep pushed beyond the fringe of our conscious thought. What if there was no tomorrow? What if I didn’t get a second chance in my marriage? What if today was the only legacy I’d have to leave my children? What if I was eternally stuck with the salvation and obedience choices I have previously made? Then, what if I had only one day to fix any or all of those things? What would you do? That is the subject of today’s poem. If you are anything like me, and I’m guessing you are, life is filled with potential regrets. So I take the liberty of asking the ultimate “what if” question. If this was the last day of your life, would you be spending it just the way you are right now? Me either. Consequently, I urge us all to reconsider the story of our lives and identify the parts of it which may need to be rewritten. Each of us is guaranteed only one second chance, and that is the one we grab hold of right now. Beyond this moment, this day, there is no sure thing. Perhaps we should live each day as if it were the last. Then, no matter what happens, we can be absolutely sure that we’ll have no regrets, nor will any be inherited by those we leave behind. Have a blessed day ... and make it count.

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 ©

The Cost of Success

We all define success in different terms. For many people, especially men, success often seems to be measured in terms of prosperity and influence. The world tells us to work hard, pay our dues, make sacrifices and the American dream of prosperity and financial security can be ours. True enough, there is ample opportunity in this country for most people to realize their American dream in those terms. However, far too often people sacrifice their families in the pursuit of that success. We rationalize that we’re doing it for them, but when our work focus nudges our loved ones aside it can become self-serving and, in the end, it preys on the very people we intended it to benefit. Some people can balance work and home, but there are always choices and trade offs to make in that balancing act. When we begin to trade our families for financial success we might need to take a step back to reexamine our priorities. We can argue that the money is all for them, but in the end real love is always spelled T.I.M.E. When men become the CEO or the Chairman of the Board, but lose their wives or estrange themselves from their children what have they really accomplished. Clearly none of us are perfect, but we all need to take a step back now and again to reconsider our priorities. Otherwise we may find ourselves so entangled in our lives outside the home that we can become strangers to it. As an example of this point I’m going to make it personal by sharing an excerpt from my own father’s unpublished memoirs:

“… in 1967, I began to realize that my business interests and activities, coupled with politics, had led me to increasingly give away more and more of my time and of myself to other people and other causes. Due to the fact that my children were perfect and my wife was a saint, it was so much easier to let other people influence me into these activities for the good of one cause or another, and the most important one of all to me, was to be sufficiently successful so that I could provide for them in an appropriate way. We had been moving up the ladder financially due to these efforts, but that began to look shallow to me compared to the lack of time I was able to spend with them … By early 1968 I was of a mind to sever our marital ties, simply on the grounds that she, being a few years younger than me, could find a husband she deserved a great deal more. It was not a desire to be noble, but I did recognize that I had involved myself in a web of commitments to so many people, in both business and politics, that it would not be easy to extricate myself. I finally convinced her that this was the appropriate thing to do, although she never really agreed to it. And I was acting substantially against the advice of my then closest friend, a prominent Newport Beach psychiatrist who convinced me I either had to give up everything else in order to do right by my family or turn aside to my dreams of being able to be more successful for their benefit. Rightly or wrongly, I chose to secure a divorce.”

So, you see, even in my own family the lure of success and outside commitments became stronger than the bond of commitments at home … even though the family was the initial reason for all of the hard work and outside commitments. In my case I see it as all having worked out for the best, but divorce affects each person differently and also creates a legacy we pass on to our children. They are the unwilling heirs of our success and failure on the home front. In order to illustrate a different perspective, I offer a poem which was written by my younger brother, Scott Carpenter. This poem captures eloquently a recurring dream he had when he was younger and offers valuable insight into a child’s perspective on the choices some people make in order to achieve their particular brand of success.

The Vat
When I was six I had a dream
that my dad took my mom and me
to the warehouse where men work.
It was all dark except for one door
in the side where you could walk out.
In the middle were some stairs that
led up to a giant vat of waste or acid
or something, and at the top of the stairs
partly in the dark stood the devil.
No one said anything but I knew that if
my dad jumped into the vat then the devil
would let my mom and me go free.
The last thing I remember was my dad
standing up on the stairs next to the devil
looking down into the giant vat, and I
remember my mom and I just stood there
silently, staring at their shadows and the vat.
My mom and I got away so he must have
jumped in. I guess he must be a hero.

That was when my dad left home for good.
He didn't really die. That was only a dream.
And He didn't really jump into the vat
of industrial waste. He just had work to do.
Now that I'm grown up I still have the dream
sometimes. When I wake I think about how
quiet and normal it seemed around the devil.
The warehouse isn't so scary or strange.
And now I have a little boy of my own.
He comes to visit me at the office sometimes.
I give him candy and let him play at my desk.
I still haven't told him about the vat.
By Scott Carpenter

When we look at it from that perspective, it reminds us of how our choices affect other people and how their perspectives thereon may be entirely different. We all have our lives to live and many of us are already living with the consequences of decisions which may or may not have brought about the results we desired. What I do know is that our spouses and children are the most precious commodities we possess and we must carefully consider anything which might trade away some part of them, or our relationships with them, for the promise of success … even if they are the intended beneficiaries thereof. In the end what our families desire more than all the stuff in the world is our hearts. We must not, therefore, allow our hearts to become divided.

In conclusion, I hope and pray that we all might weigh our priorities and make our decisions accordingly. I certainly have not done everything right, not by a long shot. However, I would not trade the love of my wife or the respect of my children for any material thing on this earth. We don’t have a lot of stuff, but in the true essentials of life I’m the richest man I know. Each of us must choose our own path, but let us always keep in mind the potentially high cost of success … and the immeasurable value of the loved ones who will share it with us.

A Grateful Nation

There was such a huge response to my July 4th entry I decided to expand briefly upon that theme, especially since I came up with another poem I wish to share. I began writing this poem on Memorial Day, but it never came to fruition. However, I became re-inspired on July 4th and it finally came together. I have had several military friends serving in the Middle East in recent years and have seen first hand the price they paid personally in order serve our country in that way. Regardless of how you may feel about the war, the politics or our national leadership, I charge each American to extend the respect and gratitude our men and women in arms deserve. They are doing their job and their duty, often at great personal cost and inconvenience to themselves and their loved ones. They do so just as our fathers and grandfathers did when they responded to duty’s call in the great wars of the past. And as before, they are fighting not so much to defend our current borders, but the ideals which those borders represent. It must be noted as well that our soldiers have fought and bled and died on foreign soil time and again, while we have never asked for any more new territory than that required to burry our dead.

On Memorial Day we remember those you have made the ultimate sacrifice for this great nation. On July 4th we celebrate the birth of our nation and the founding principles which make it so great. On all the days in between, however, may we continue to remember those who guard our beloved freedom and champion the rights others who deserve those selfsame freedoms. May all those who proudly wear the uniforms of the United States military, who are our heroes, instruments and emissaries, receive the respect they deserve and ever feel the earnest appreciation of a grateful nation.

A Grateful Nation
How little do I understand
Here, so safe and far away
The sacrifices you have made
And the meaning of this day
Never have I risked my life
Or known the kind of loss
Real heroes or their families know
Who pay for freedom’s cost
So here I pause, as each should
To offer up my heartfelt thanks
For those who fought so bravely
And marched in freedom’s ranks
From Lexington and Concord
To Kabul and Baghdad too
You stood for truth and justice
To see your missions through
And the very least you should expect
That you most certainly deserve
Is the gratitude of your nation
And those you so bravely serve
By Frank Carpenter ©

The Forever Factor

I was recently reading Psalm 136, which repeatedly employs the phrase, “His love endures forever.” That got me thinking about the big picture that word forever implies. I’m not quite sure how a finite human mind can even begin to grasp the concept, but suffice it to say that it’s a long time … unimaginably long. With that in mind as a backdrop, I daresay most of us think very little about the future which lies somewhere out there beyond retirement. However, can any of us really afford to ignore that gaping void of eternity future which looms ahead. Let’s call it the “forever factor.” Today, I’d rather speak about this subject in more general terms rather than engage you in a long theological discussion. My observation is that life is relatively short, compared to the magnitude of eternity, so perhaps it behooves us to think and plan towards that inevitable end (or beginning). Our time here can be very distracting and often, before we know it, the years have slipped away and all that time we thought we had left has evaporated. Let us not forget, also, that we have no guarantees about that length of our earthly lives. Usually, I suppose I’m quick to draw conclusions and spout my particular brand of truth, but today I’ll just climb off my soap box and let the great eternal paradox speak for itself. So I l eave you today with food for thought and encouragement to spend some time digesting that food. Don’t take too long, though, because forever is a really long time and none of us can be sure exactly when it’s scheduled to begin.

If you have any questions or thoughts on this subject, I encourage your response. Also, Remember to include your own email address if you’d like me to respond to you. Have a great day … and may you be blessed with many more.

The Shortness of Time
We are so easily entangled
In the daily rituals of life
Wooed into marching with the others
When we hear the drum and fife
Until our time grows so congested
With commitments we have made
That they rule our private worlds
And things eternal seem to fade
We forget about our first love
The God we say we care about
We slowly nudge Him to the background
Until He's shut completely out
Wake up! What are we doing?
These things we've let monopolize
Are merely meaningless diversions
It's time we finally realize
That only the things eternal
Matter in the larger scheme
We must not let the world seduce us
With its promises and dreams
We must shake ourselves and understand
And train ourselves to see
The shortness of the time we have
And the magnitude of eternity
By Frank Carpenter ©