Source: From the Inside Out“And then Jesus looked at them and said, ‘Humanly speaking, this is impossible. But with God all things are possible.’” ~Matthew 19:26
‘Car-pet‘Click on any image to enlarge it, to read caption, or to begin slide show.
“Dragon Lizard Caught Playing Leaf Guitar” by Aditya Permana (not Photoshopped)Seriously though, the weekend is fast-approaching, and it’s important to have a plan. Therefore, here are some helpful tips you can use to plan your…
OK, so I lied. These aren’t helpful tips at all, they’re just funny comments. But then, funny comments make you smuckle (smile + chuckle). And that helps you get through the things you don’t want to do, right? So, I take it back–these are helpful tips!
You’re welcome.
“I’ve been looking over the list of spring chores I made up last fall, and darned if they aren’t fall chores, after all.” ~Robert Breault
“Normal Person’s Weekly Chore List:
1. Clean kitchen
2. Clean bathroom
3. Clean entire rest of domicile
Cleaning-Impaired Person’s Weekly Chore List:
1. Don’t get peanut butter on sheets”
~Dave Barry
“Cleanliness is not next to godliness. It isn’t even in the same neighborhood. No one has ever gotten a religious experience out of removing burned-on cheese from the grill of the toaster oven.” ~Erma Bombeck
“I fought the lawn and the lawn won.” ~Unknown
“My neighbor asked me if he could use my lawnmower. I told him he could — as long as he didn’t take it out of my yard.” ~Unknown
Even when my father wasn’t there, he was there. He was the gravity that kept us from flying off into oblivion. Which is to say, into the sort of poverty he and Mom had endured during the Great Depression. But he was out for more than mere security. Dad was ambitious to a fault. He was determined to attain all a man could attain in life, and take Mom and me with him. Mom went gleefully. I went with a blend of pride and fear. Why? Because he was determined (at the sagely age of 20-something) that I attain all I should attain as well. So his affection always seemed to have strings attached.
Nevertheless, he was proud of his Marine Corps training. And so, when I turned five, he bestowed upon me the incomparable benefits of his boot camp experience. (“Oorah!”) He woke me up by singing reveille in my ear at 6 a.m. And if I didn’t respond immediately, he splashed water in my face, and shouted, “Up and at ‘em!” I failed. (Mom let me go back to sleep after he left for work.) He also showed me how to make my bed so drumhead-tight he could “bounce a quarter off it!” I failed. (Mom remade it later.)
Still, Dad made me laugh, too. A lot. And he taught me how to do things, sometimes perfectly, sometimes not. Like when he bought me a boomerang and insisted on first showing me how to throw it. I never saw it again. (Presumably, it made its way back to Australia). I was disappointed, but secretly glad he too could fail at something.
…had a tiny “grove” of baby orange trees. It was doubtful they’d survive the winter, but Dad was committed! He fertilized them, staked them to make them grow straight, and threw lots of water at them (“Up and at ‘em!”).
So, I decided to reward him for his efforts by gathering up all the “ripe” oranges that had fallen to the ground, and proudly presenting them to Dad (they were rotting, but what did I know?). He seemed confused at first, but then smiled, and said, “Thank you, son.” And I knew I’d done well. Only years later did I realize everything I gave him—the oranges, the box I put them in, even the used card—already belonged to him.
…to reward Dad for his efforts. The moment he’d gotten his driver’s license back, the Herald-Express offered him a newspaper dealership in a squeaky new suburb on the outer edge of Los Angeles County.
A month later, Mommandad took me to our favorite bistro, a little one-of-a-kind hamburger stand called “McDonald’s.” (The McDonald’s in Downey, California, was only the second one ever built). After numbing me with a chocolate shake, Dad announced, “Well, we’ve sold our home!” I blinked uncomprehendingly. “This is big, honey,” Mom added, “our lives are going to change!” And how right she was. Few things change kids as much as moving. And their parents too.
Dad’s eyes had a light in them I’d never seen before.
The True Meaning of Sacrifice: Today we honor those who’ve sacrificed their lives for the sake of others. But as deeply as the word “sacrifice” resonates in us, the key word is others.
Martin Luther King Jr. put it this way: In Jesus’ story of the Good Samaritan, “The first question which the priest and the Levite asked,” after seeing a wounded man beside the road, “was, ‘If I stop to help this man, what will happen to me?’ But the good Samaritan reversed the question: ‘If I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him?’”
Is to offer oneself in service to others. That is the kind of sacrifice that deserves to be, no, must be commemorated. More people have given their lives in service to others than we’ll ever know. Perhaps you’ve known or are even related to one. There are some stirring examples in this article by Elisabeth Sedgwick: 10 People Who Sacrificed Their Lives To Save Others.
“When you sacrifice something precious, you’re not really losing it. You’re just passing it on to someone else.” ~Mitch Albom
“I’m willing to walk in darkness if it keeps humans in the light.” ~Victoria Schwab
“The happiness of love is in action. Its test is this: what one is willing to do for others.” ~Lew Wallace
“Greater love has no one than this: that they lay down their life for their friends.” ~John 15:13
“Sacrifice…should be done from love…from necessity…it should be done for people who need your strength because they don’t have enough of their own.” ~Veronica Roth
All photos are © Copyright by Mitch Teemley and may not be reproduced without written permissionA walk in the woods. We’re blessed to live in an area known for its wooded parks. And so, weather allowing, on most Sunday afternoons Trudy and I will hit the trails, camera phones blazing. I captured these images at three local woodlands, one of which, Mt. Airy Forest, is less than a mile from our home.
Click on any image to enlarge it, or to begin slideshow.
AARP Member Benefits Update
It was the day I discovered music. But I wouldn’t realize it until years later. True, I liked music, thanks in large part to my Uncle Walt (Disney). I danced along with the Mouseketeers and, like every other kid in the Disneyverse, wore my coonskin cap when I sang along to the Davy Crockett theme. But I didn’t make music, and I had no impulse to do so–yet. My first love was stories, particularly in the form of movies.
We usually popcorned at our local suburban bijou, the Meralta. The first movies I saw there, again from Uncle Walt, had memorable music, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, Peter Pan, The Great Locomotive Chase. I’d turn my Radio Flyer wagon into a locomotive or Captain Nemo’s Nautilus. Or I’d race about with my arms outstretched, singing “You Can Fly” from Peter Pan, and desperately hoping that, despite my dearth of pixie dust, I would finally achieve lift-off.
That summer I’d fallen in love with Debbie Reynolds in Tammy and the Bachelor at the Meralta, and left the theatre with its hit theme song on perpetual repeat in my head. Little did I know that music and Debbie would play co-starring roles in my future.
…I would see a movie at the Meralta, and the first time I would experience live music. Not surprisingly, we’d come to see a musical The Pajama Game (which would also reappear in my life later on). “But before the movie begins,” the theater manager announced, “you’re in for an unusual treat, a live musical performance!” And then he welcomed an unknown singer, a handsome young guy (Mom noted) named Sam Cooke.
Sam plugged his electric guitar into something that looked like a really big radio, an amplifier. I’d never seen or heard of either. It looked nothing like the four-string “Mousegetar” Jimmy Dodd played on the Mickey Mouse Club. Sam started with a tune he’d written, one that would become a landmark in music history.
…to a place I’d never been before. “You Send Me” was one of the first songs ever to crossover from R&B onto popular music charts, and is still considered one of the 500 greatest songs of the 20th century. Sam sang two more tunes that night, including his soulful take on Gershwin’s “Summertime” (he also pioneered soul music). And then, we were all given free copies of his first 45 release, featuring both songs!
I played that 45 until the grooves wore off. But the real “groove” never wore off. My first exposure to live music had introduced me to one of the greatest singer/songwriters in music history. Sam Cooke planted a seed in me for a new love. Music would live in my heart alongside stories and movies for the rest of my life. And a decade later, the seed and need that Sam had planted that night…
Would become a full-grown sapling.
To read My Real Memoir from the start, click here. To read the next episode, click here.
Photo by Nathan DumlaoCan we reverse our “wing flaps”? I find the idea intriguing that the mere flap of a butterfly’s wing in, say, Nebraska could start a chain reaction leading to a tsunami in Sr Lanka. The point being that, with each “wing flap,” i.e. word or deed, we initiate a chain of effects. Sometimes for good and sometimes for bad.
An old college student of mine, now a well-loved pastor and community leader, looked me up. He astonished me by telling me that my class, along with the student dinners my wife and I hosted, had profoundly affected the course of his life.
The wife of another student (different class) informed me that he was deeply offended by something I’d said or done. But I have no idea what it was because he refused to ever speak with me again. Sometimes our wing flaps can’t be reversed.
But sometimes they can.
I accidentally swung a golf club back and broke my cousin Larry’s nose. Thirty-two years later at, ironically, a Thanksgiving dinner, he stunned the family by announcing that he’d never forgiven me. Not for injuring him, but for so quickly excusing my actions (“I didn’t know you were there!”), instead of showing real concern. This, Larry said, was why he found it so hard to believe in God. If I was the product of such a God, he said, he wanted nothing to do with him. The family came to my rescue: “Mitch didn’t mean it!” “It was thirty years ago!” They urged him to let it go.
But God didn’t. I could sense Him whispering, “Fix this.”
It was one long overdue reverse wing flap. I remember the way his eyes searched mine for telltale twitches of insincerity. And then the way they softened. Was it enough? I pray so. Less than a year later, Larry passed away, and after the funeral his wife told me that what I’d said had started him on the path to believing in God again.
Matthew 6:33 tells us to, “Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness (justice), and all these things (needs, hopes, relationships) will be added unto you.” Significantly, the original Greek for “added” refers not to rewards, but to results of the actions we take. When that still, small voice whispers, “Fix this,” it’s time to…
Reverse our wing flaps.
