Sometimes I Lose my Faith

I am human and from time to time I lose my faith. It’s not that it is planned or even foreseen but rather as startling as coming to faith was in the first place. Having traveled on the road of faith for more then just a short time, the expectation might be that strength or conviction or some other self generated attributes would hold my foot steady against “wickeds” and wilds and not so wilds of the present age. It has always been my intent to stay strong in faith, to run the good race, to stay the course, but alas in the midst of my goodness there always seems to lie the seeds of discontent that moves me to another path.

Is it the lack of knowledge that causes the loss? Or maybe some shortfall in teaching or instruction that precipitates the sideways glance or turn of head? Is it some weakness in doctrine or indoctrination that becomes the origin of apostasy? Clearly, intent is not the fervent glue that I might think for it appears that the road to hell is paved with its derivatives. Possibly, it’s the fault of those with whom this dance of life is shared. Their imperfections and flaws surely have seduced me into passageways where darkness seems to overpower light. Reason dictates there is no place within my heart that would, with such recklessness, abandon that which intent and command have set as such a noble prize. Yet, when heart and hand and mind do fail to keep the frailty of humanity at bay, and with little regard for life or death, I plunge face first into the indulgence of self, the truthful sting of faith is felt. Without a thought of return or origin the embrace of faith is forsaken in willing welcome embrace of self.

The One in whom faith commences and eternally resides does convict with gentle means, though not so often thus perceived. A message not concealed but seldom heard and understood is proclaimed again my heart. There is nothing I can do but set myself toward the task of keeping faith with Him who is author and finisher. Aware of the frailties of this humanity by experience taught, His mercy makes compassion move beyond perception’s reasonable ends. Loss of faith is not loss of the faithful One. Condemnation is not the inevitable tide of actions wrought with selfishness, but the fact that simply and persistently He waits again to be found.

Looking back to Look Ahead

I've been doing some thinking about the cognitive concept of a frame of reference. The idea that we are all made up of the people we have known, the places we have been, and the experiences we have had. In the thinking process, it occurs to me that I've been thinking about this for a long time. In 1977 I wrote a poem, more of a poet slips then a poet's lips, about it, "The We of Me", which explores the interesting idea that who we are is where we've been. The sentiment was admittedly narrow in 1977 and I suspect was tainted by some infatuation or another.

Every Little Girl

Every little girl should see the Nutcracker ballet. The dreamy imagery combined with the grace of dance and the music....the music. Tonight Lola was a little girl fitting right in to the pinafores and party dresses poised at the Ohio Theater to see Columbus Ballet's version of the Nutcracker. It was a little girl's dream and my little wife in her first Nutcracker was as delighted as a school girl.

Weisberger's Aniversary.

BMC friends Paul & Ellen Weisberger, celebrating their 18th
anniversary at Longhorn. Good friends, good fellowship, acceptable
food. Love endures.

Sertoma

Yesterday's Sertoma meeting awarded $2,000 to the Childhood League.
Accepting the award is Barb Acton, Executive Director. Sertoma (Service to Mankind) is a service organization providing funding support to charitable groups.

Go West Young Man...

"One thing you can say about life is that it's constant". (Woody Allan) The constancy of life has the tendency to also be consuming. Please understand that being consumed by life is a strategy embraced by many, myself included. However, being consumed by it and having life consume you are two different concepts. I confess that while I subscribe to one I am the victim of the other. Life’s consumptive appetite is for time. It steals minute, than hours, than vast periods of time that seem to vanish without a trace. It was just yesterday that Lola & I shared the hospitality of Wayne and Merry Shervey in their Hopkins, MN home. We all had the connection of childhood which seems closer then history will admit and had a uniqueness of relationship being relatives and also friends. Great memories of fun and friendliness seem fresh but life, in its chariot of time, is hidden by memory which secretly compresses the distance between two points in time. What seems fresh is placed by history twenty years in the past.

The chariot can move pretty fast and provide little scenery unless you keep your eyes open for the scenic overlooks life has to offer. The moments, which almost seem to be outside of time, give a different perspective of where we’ve been and where we’re going. Imagine our delight to experience one of the scenic overlooks of life on a trip to visit the Shervey’s near Portland in their Canby Oregon home. Because memory folds time there was the perception of a mere skip in time like the bounce of a stylus and we were again connected. The hospitality and warm blending of soul and spirit enable us to be consumed by life and not worry so much about being consumed by it. When you lift your head above the blur of the journey you can see all the mountain tops.

Today I fell in love

Today I fell in love. It’s not something that is unusual for me. I tend to fall in love several times a day but this was different. As William Wadsworth said in his poem, “She was a phantom of delight when first she gleamed upon my sight,” this was a defining moment. Though I’d seen her many times before today this was the day I really saw her for the first time. What style, grace, what a personality, what a smile. She could make a train take a gravel road.

I’d known her all her life and had always liked her. I saw her first when she was only minutes old and even than she was unforgettable. The first grandchild is always special, so I’m told, and she is. Enthralled, delighted, ecstatic framed my relationship. I am the father of the father so I tend to stand at the back of the baby line but that’s ok. The time that I’m with her has always been special.

Alexsandra Elizabeth Klein is formidable nomenclature for such a tiny imp. Though formal in structure the name fits this little princess. It seems my cognitive process had gotten somewhat out of hand and our relationship, for me, had gotten somewhat analytical. But, today my head went round and my heart stopped. Today it was like I saw her for the first time and I fell head over heels in love. This young lady is my destiny, she is our destiny. In her, as in all grandchildren, are bundled the hopes and dream of a generation that has begun to entrust the world to our children and come face to face with the results of that disposition…grandchildren. Today I fell in love.