The older I become the more clearly I see my journey. Many beliefs I had as a young man were those I adopted from my mentors and peers…and yet I always had questions. Questions are the lifeblood of improvement.

A dangerous path is to accept what a leader pastor or politician tells you as the gospel truth. It is easy to live the life that someone has planned for us rather than the one we want. Independence is a virtue.

Cults thrive on the total obedience of their members to the dictates of the leader. If a person has questions they are out of step with the doctrine and in danger of becoming an apostate.

When something does not make sense or seems illogical…beware. When people with whom you attend church seem intrusive…they are. If they believe that they have a better idea for you…they do not.

My good friend from England has written about, ‘Ashes being the result of a dark society,’…this is a powerful statement!

We humans have a bit of a herd mentality or a lemming outlook. Too often we follow the leader into oblivion.

Change is a good thing…especially positive change. The desire to follow the teaching of Christ has nothing remotely to do with the doctrine of hate. If Jesus were sitting in the back pew of many of our churches he not only would not be recognized but would be asked to leave as he would appear to be out of place with the group assembled.

‘Crucify him,’ they cried!

‘Give us Barabas…’

First is fun! Don’t we all like to be in on the first of something? Spring is special as we do not have an unlimited supply. So, each one is rare to us.

Spring and autumn are my favorite seasons but I used to say autumn and winter were my favorite. As I have achieved the senior class in my education I have learned that they are all special in their own manner.

Spring heralds the imminent holiday of Easter. When I was a youngster Easter meant the Easter Bunny and a glorious Easter basket with a solid chocolate Bunny in the middle of the cornucopia.

‘Climb on the donkey and we will begin the parade,’ Fisherman said. The people have palm branches to lay before you as you ride,’ Fisherman continued.

‘I wonder if they understand my message and what I have been sent to accomplish,’ J thought. ‘At times they seem to accept who I am and at other times I hear them speak of retribution, revenge, and justice,’ J thought.

‘Hosanna and blessed is he who cometh in the name of the Lord,’ They cried. ‘He is the Messiah and will soon be King of Israel and our suffering will be over…we will have revenge on the Romans and their heavy yoke,’ They said.

‘I see the future and it is not what I intended…my message is of inclusion and love…but a time will soon come when people will fight and kill and make war…in my name,’ J thought.

‘Look at the palms in your path…Lord…all before you certainly love you…they would die for you…if asked,’ Fisherman said.

‘We are against those who are not like us. If you are a different color or sexual orientation or political affiliation than us…you are not Christian…,’ F said in the name of their version of Christ’s message…

‘Jesus wept…’

The last day. It has been good but now we move on. Remember Christmas? Doesn’t it seem like yesterday? We had an arctic cold snap. It was the kind of cold that hurt. After that, it has been semi-spring conditions.

Like most Golden Years people I can tell you of the three feet of snow that I walked to school in…uphill both ways… We would fire up the coal stove until it glowed cherry red. If you were in the same room or proximity to the brilliant glowing embers you were hot…if you were in another part of the house you required a sweater.

I guess we can not say Happy New Year any longer.

It was about this time each year that we kids in Eldorado began to realize school does not last forever. Winter and its cold and snow kept us somewhat focused on our studies. But when spring arrived we knew that our redemption draweth nie.

The eclipse is coming in April. The last one was a religious experience for me… I saw that we are a bit of carbon-based life in a universe of mystical mystery. We putter around and struggle and strive when none of us will get out of this world alive…and yet the last eclipse illustrated the distinct possibility that indeed we are bound for greater things after the event of death.

We look through a glass darkly the Bible tells us. Our perception of reality is so far removed from what surrounds us that we could be likened to an ant on an anthill. There is much more that we do not know than what we know.

I as most of my generation was raised reading the ‘Dick and Jane’ books. We also received a periodical called the ‘Weekly Reader.’ The narratives taught us children the basics of living well with others. Share your goods…be kind…take a nap when you are tired…do not fight.

The last eclipse taught me that we are still in the Dick and Jane writings and need to re-subscribe to the Weekly Reader…

I think that I must be a bit Irish as many of my ancestors came from that part of the world.

When we traveled to Ireland I was captivated by the scenery. Our guide sang an Irish song that was haunting and I can still remember it. I enjoyed immersing in the Irish culture and even had the correct answer to a trivia question that no one in our group knew.

MJ and I had dinner at Houlihans in St. Louis on St. Patrick’s Day many years ago. We had a Mexican dish and wine which we were not accustomed to drinking. Upon the second glass of wine, MJ asked me if I wanted to visit the Peweter store, and by a figurine of a father holding a video camera…which is something I did a lot of as Aaron and Jonathon were growing up and I quickly saw the magic of St. Patricks Day and wine…

Once we joined our friend Lee for a St. Patrick’s Day Dinner at a local pub. Many of her friends were there and I thought the experience was enriching.

Joan and Jim graciously invited us to their home for several St. Patrick’s Day dinners and I have never eaten such delicious corn beef and cabbage…and bread…

I met an Irish man from Northern Ireland when we were traveling with Margo and Jeff and he told me that I must visit as they had wonderful peat. The man was a friendly rough-hewn gentleman who looked as if he did not suffer fools gladly.

So…we need holidays to remind us of who we are and the joy of living. We get bogged down in the minutia of our day-to-day walk. Holidays remind us of how special our gift is. We all have a history. We all came from somewhere. We need to be reminded of where we have been and where we are going.

Cinnamon and spice and everything nice is not only what little girls are made of but also the pauses we take to connect with each other and relish our shared humanity. Darkness is pierced by the light of love. Hope awakes anew each morning.

The cords that bind us together are so much stronger than the artificial and self-serving rhetoric of those who would divide us…

Looking for inspiration and waiting for Godot. At times this is our life. We look to the north, the south, the east, and the west and find only those waiting with us. We understand each other, are all from the Seeker family…we know our own.

Tick Tock the world turns and we turn with it. The problems seem overwhelming and the solutions are few. Whatever happened to the public servant? Where are the three Wisemen when we need them.

‘He speaks like no man I have ever heard,’ She said. ‘His words are a bit of a balm for my soul,’ She continued.

‘Follow me and I will make you fishers of men,’ Hope Bringer said. ‘I have come from my Dad and he sent me with a message,’ HB continued.

‘HB seems more than human…perhaps a shaman or a prophet,’ They said. ‘His brothers and Mom and Dad are among us…we know where he lives,’ They continued.

‘Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul.’

‘In the fell clutch of circumstance, I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeoning of chance, My head is bloody but unbowed.’

‘Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the Shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds and shall find me unafraid.’

‘It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.’ Invictus, William Ernest Henley

Today is one of those special days where you can feel see and smell spring in the air. The blooms are showing their brilliant faces and a breeze is blowing out old man winter. So it goes with us. We are waking from our winter naps and preparing for the challenges of new life.

I recall being at a church meeting in Topeka, Kansas when I was a wee lad and waking up to the lovely scent of spring. I was sleeping in a dormitory with several of the men of my church at the time and we were attending a Camp Meeting. I had never attended a Camp Meeting. The dormitory had massive open-air windows that allowed a brisk wake-up before the morning breakfast which was plentiful and good.

When our hopes are at their lowest ebb…then comes spring and the renewal of life, dreams, and plans…

A Cardinal is sitting on a hospital window ledge. He is singing, ‘Do not give up hope…I have been sent to bring you joy.’

Dogwoods bloom outside the home of the homeless…children laugh and play with no worries about tomorrow…they know that God is in control…

The rivers run into the sea and the cares of today await the eclipse of the Sun and the demonstration that we are all part of something so much bigger than we are…

We forget what manner of woman and man that we are. Debt, child care, work, and life are abundant with pitfalls, while another spring is here with all of its abundance and the gift of beginning again…

Memories lurk in the shadows of our minds. We remember that once we were happy…once we were free of the artifice of fake life and its constant demands…we recall laughing at cartoons and Big Books for Kids…a trip to the Orpheum Theatre was the adventure of a lifetime and swimming in Pounds Hollow Creek was the joy of our summer…

All the joys and happiness of our lives are part of us. We are not diminished. We are not reduced by our struggles. We are conquerors of all…the mighty oak tree tells us as he rustles from his slumber to be enjoyed in all his splendor…

I read of the challenges my good friend in England is going through and admire her courage. For many of us life is seemingly all uphill. To be on that grueling ascent and still be determined to find the good in life is amazing.

The clarity of our vision to live positively and effectively is inspiring. This world is a mixture of light and dark. There are days when we can climb the mountain…and other days when the mountain is on top of us. Much depends on what we do with what we have been given.

The author Helen Keller, a political activist, and lecturer who lost her sight and her hearing, when she was 19 months old, became the first deaf/blind person to earn a bachelor’s Degree from Radcliff College of Harvard University.

We fear our lack of education or advantage or money has locked us out of the door of opportunity. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Thomas Edison once said that his success in inventing came from 99% perspiration and 1% inspiration.

My dear friend Jeff went from being homeless on the streets of Chicago, Illinois to being a multi-millionaire and the owner of his own business in the United Kingdom.

We all can take the lemons that life gives us and make our own derivation of lemonade. Each of our circumstances is different and yet we have the unbreakable similarity of being from the same family…the human family.

Each of us can make it with a little help from our friends. None of us has a stamp on our back that says Reject or Seconds. I admire President Biden who has suffered from stuttering since his childhood and has worked on it for his entire life. Now he could have said, Well I can not be a public official or certainly the President of the United States when I slip on some words…and words are the coin of the realm in politics… Not only did he not let his disability thwart his success but is known for meeting youngsters at his political rallies who are stutters and giving them his personal telephone number so they to call him and he encouraged their quest to overcome the malady.

’30 Things a Standardized Test Can’t Measure…Resilence Passion Strength Wit Faith Compassion a sense of humor Intuition Kindness self-esteem Intelligence Motivation Fortitude Morals Courage Work Ethic Empathy Determination Personality Manners Diligence Common Sense Ingenuity Grit Character Physical Fitness A Love Of Learning Creativity Effort Life Skills.’ currclick

I saw a lovely series on Netflix the other night that intrigued me. It was regarding space travel and the search for immortality. The ending was the capstone for me where a father and daughter traveled to a place in the desert where a UFO was to land. Their wife and mother had been killed in a plane crash shortly after her return to Earth but had provided her family with the GPS coordinates as to where and when the craft would land. Now there was a load of intrigue in the middle of the film including the nefarious plane crash but the ending was surprising. The much sought-after UFO was the satellite that we sent to space in the 70s with greetings from all over Earth and our best wishes to understand and unite with other intelligent life in space. The takeaway thought was how much we inhabitants of Earth have changed in 50 years and are no longer united in a common goal. The realization was that Aliens had sent our 70s greeting back to us…

So it goes as we fight with each other and seek new lows and new words to describe those with whom we disagree. We cut the taxes of the top 5% and failed to provide money for the hungry in our land. We say President Biden is too old for office and we forget that former President Trump is only less than four years younger. We catcall and harangue the President in the State of the Union Address and think that is top-notch politics. Many of our politicians are on a Lone Ranger Crusade and have no interest in legislating or working together. Compromise is a dirty word when in fact our government is set up on the bedrock reality of compromise.

Not so long ago we sat out on our porches in Eldorado. Neighbors would leisurely walk back and forth to each other’s porches, sit a spell, and discuss the day’s events and how their families were doing. Each person that we knew was important to us. When someone was ill we took a casserole and visited them daily to ensure they had what they needed.

We might curse a little among friends who were not offended by our colorful language but never in front of women or children and never in a public setting. When Sunday came we were the first ones through the door because we knew that we needed help beyond our own understanding.

Kennedy said, ‘We shall go to the moon and do the other things not because they are easy but because they are hard.’ He said, ‘Ask not what your country can do for you…ask what you can do for your country.’

Once we understood that we are all in this together. Once we knew that we all belonged to the human family. Once when our neighbor suffered…we suffered.

‘Hi Rosie…are you ready to go shopping,’ Neva J asked? ‘I hear that they have some good sales at the Food Center today,’ she continued.

‘Nevie…you are so good to me…before you, no one cared if I lived or died,’ Rosie said with a tear in her eye. ‘After JFK assassination it seems all has gone arye,’ she said.

‘Kiddo…it is up to us to keep his vision alive,’ Neva J said with a wink and a hug. ‘If we do not do it…who will…’

It is Monday again and I am reminded of my habit of many years when I was working on saying, ‘Good Old Monday.’ My colleagues knew this refrain and often smiled wanly while Nancy would greet the sound of it with a wonderful grin. She said she had never heard anyone refer to Monday as ‘Good Old Monday.’ So today I have resurrected the clarion call to say, ‘Good Old Monday.’ I do this with some passion as Monday is the seventh of our week and thus much of our life. Hope springs eternal and it is almost spring. We are living in a magnificent gift and every day is like Christmas with the surprises that it brings.

The other day I wrote of being in the new house for 23 years. As I thought about the significance of this fact of life I saw the connectedness of the events that brought me to the point I find myself today.

The joy of living is the journey. Southern Illinois University fascinated me since my childhood. The Theatre Department at SIUC sent their actors to many of the small towns in Southern Illinois and conducted plays for us students. I knew that I must find a way to be closer to the University. The results were an over 34-year career at SIUC.

University aided me in thinking big thoughts. I began to question some of the closed thoughts that many with whom I associated proclaimed as truth. I discovered the beauty of all peoples and reveled in their diversity. Some of the kindest folks I know are from other countries races and religions. I have said that travel is the act of reading the story of life…one chapter at a time.

Time goes by as a weaver’s shuttle…it is difficult to see the landscape passing by our train windows when we took the train to Paris from England… We wonder who we are at times. Our sense of place comes from where we have been.

Presbyterians are good people. They made MJ and me and Aaron and Jonathon welcome 26 years ago. An older couple in the church drove to Elkville to bring us cookies the first Sunday we attended. The group loved Aaron and Jonathon and the first Christmas that we were there I understood that this is a church that does Christmas right. The Christmas Eve Service was reminiscent of what a Service must have been like in the time of Charles Dickens. It was a midnight service and everyone wished each other Merry Christmas and we sang Silent Night by candellight. I was in Heaven with the beauty of the event.

We are walking our way back to Jerusalem right now. We need not wait for tomorrow. This is the trip as Jerry Seinfeld told his nemesis Banya to whom he had promised a meal for an Armani Suit that Banya had given him. Banya kept trying to extend his gift to another time until Jerry proclaimed when Banya was enjoying a third or fourth food consumption event on Jerry’s ‘Dime’…’This is the Meal!’

The clouds are subsiding on a cold pre-spring day. I have been reflecting on the subject of suffering. None of us are immune from the word. In fact, for many, it consumes much of their lives. I have yet to hear a satisfactory rationale as to why there is so much suffering in our world. The trite and pithy explanations fall short of a balm to ease our condition.

Often I have heard that we are members of a fallen world and suffering just goes along with it. Job’s comforters guided him with words that were of little comfort. One of them admonished him to curse God and die. Well, that does not seem like a winning argument. It is a bit easier to look at the sometimes positive results of the trial of suffering.

At times a bit of wisdom comes from suffering. Our minds and hearts become extremely focused on our condition when feeling the hopelessness at the moment of loss whether it be our own physical pain and deprivation as well as the seeking of help from God while we are going through the ordeal. After our trial, we see clear-eyed…for a while the beauty surrounding us. Stopping in place is the result of suffering. We know that we need others…a community to help us. We feel that we really are not on an island of one. Hope is a lovely thing and our penury causes our reflection.

Our Pandemic which has really never ended illustrates that we are indeed ‘all in the same boat on a stormy sea and we owe each other a terrible loyalty.’ Humility comes with pain and loss. It is a terrible lesson and an affront to our dignity and personhood. We see our mortality and the diminishment of who we thought that we were and aids us in laying aside trivial pursuits.

So many on our planet don’t have enough to eat and nowhere to lay their head. Unseen and unheard and seemingly forgotten they look to the upwardly mobile as having perhaps done something right…although that right has somehow eluded them.

Children’s suffering is unconscionable. How can a loving God allow this to occur? I have no answer. How is St. Jude Children’s Hospital full of angels who are devasting cancer. Only when I see the precious healthcare workers bringing hope and comfort to these little ones do I somewhat understand a loving God?

We know it when we see it. The unjust scourge of life and its vagaries on the most innocent. We hope for a better day.

‘Then came Jesus forth, wearing the crown of thorns, and the purple robe. And Pilate saith unto them, Behold the Man! When the chief priests therefore saw him, they cried out, saying. Crucify him, crucify him. Pilate saith unto them, Take ye him, and crucify him: for I find no fault in him.’

‘They have pierced my hands and my feet’ and I can count all my bones.’

Suffering can only be accepted through faith. A faith that we are part of a master plan…

‘And he said unto Jesus. Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom.’