My Dad was the best storyteller I ever heard. Bar none. The best thing about his stories was that they were all true. He didn't have to make any up, because he had lived such a long, full, and interesting life. He was also never one to give advice: he would tell a story instead, and hope that you got the moral on your own, and how that moral applied to what you were going through. Brilliant, really. You probably don't remember most of the advice that people have given you, unless it was bad...but you always remember a great story.
The best stories that my Dad told were the "No Name" stories. The hero was always, "...this guy..." or, "...some man..." or even, "...there was this bum...". I didn't find out until I was eighteen that all of the no-name stories were about my Dad. His last living friend from his youth, my "Uncle" Roy came to visit with his wife one day. My parents happened to be gone for a few hours, so I did my best to keep them entertained by retelling stories that my Dad had told me about Roy. According to my Dad, Roy was the toughest man in central California in the thirties. When I happened to mention that fact after three or four stories, Roy almost laughed himself to tears.
"Me? Tough? I was nothing compared to your old man, boy. He was the most feared man in five counties."
The rest of that story; all of the things that I learned from Roy that day, and all of the things that I learned after, particularly after my father's death, are a tale for another time. Suffice it to say, I was in shock. Here is one of my Dad's stories, as re-told to me by Roy:
When Black Friday hit in twenty-nine, your dad was going to the University of Nevada. He had a full scholarship, and they'd given him a part-time job as manager of the sports teams. Wasn't a ton of money, but more than enough to live on comfortably and go to school. But, your dad dropped out. You see, your Granddad lost his farm and couldn't get work. He had your Grandma and your Uncle Ralph to support, and they couldn't make ends meet. So, your Dad came home and found me. We started riding the rails all across the country, trying to find work. My money was just for myself, but your Dad sent almost every penny he made home to his family. Kept just enough for smokes and a little food. But, work was scarce. Lots of men fighting over the same jobs, so we were constantly on the move, hopping freights from one town to the next.
One day we stopped in this town somewhere in the south. Factory town. What I mean by that is: there was one factory in the town that supported the whole economy down there. Every day, this foreman for the factory would show up outside the factory on a buckboard. He'd call out how many jobs there were, and then pick the men that got to go in and work. There were always about fifty jobs...and about three hundred men waiting, hoping to get picked. Seemed like it was the same men got picked every day.
First day we're there, this foreman stands up on the back of that buckboard and asks if there's anybody there that thought they could whip him in a fight. Now, I know you can't really see your Dad, boy. Too blinded by familiarity. You think he's a small, old man who goes to church too much. Well, your old man didn't become a Christian until 1948. Before then, he was the meanest, scariest man I ever met. He might have only been five foot four, but there was something about him that just intimidated people. He had huge hands and forearms, and his eyes would flash from blue to green to grey in an instant. He walked like a wolverine, and he looked like he would just as soon kill you as he would look at you. In all the years I've known your Dad, I've NEVER seen him lose a fight...and every single one of them was against a man almost twice his size or better.
Anyway, this guy asks the question, and your Dad hops straight up onto that buckboard and says, "I'm your Man." Needless to say, we didn't get the job that day. Or the next...or the one after that. We found small jobs over the next week or so, chopping wood, cleaning out stables, stuff like that. Not enough to make any money to send home, but enough for a roof and three squares. About a week later, I talked your Dad into stealing a straw hat off of a scarecrow. I made him pull it low over his face so we wouldn't be recognised, and we went back out to the factory yard to wait. Sure enough, we got picked.
Your Dad was a quick learner, way quicker than me. They started him off in the factory on an assembly line. Your Dad had to pull a switch every time a part would come by. The guy to his left pushed a foot pedal for the part, and the guy to his right pushed a button. So, it went; foot pedal guy, your Dad pulling his switch, then the next guy pushing his button. Timing was everything. Your Dad got it down first time, and kept right at it. I was over at a polishing bin, hand buffing pieces as they came out. Pretty mindless work, so I could keep an eye an your Dad. They'd already told us that the guys on the line made twice as much as the ones doing what I was doing. I was hoping that maybe I'd get pulled to work over by your Dad.
About an hour and a half into the day, the foreman goes over to your Dad. Asks him if he thinks he can push the floor pedal AND pull his switch and still keep time. Your Dad tells him, "Goddamn right I can", and they pull the man off of the pedal. Your Dad starts doing both jobs, and it's just like music, he's so smooth. The foreman then takes the man that had been working the foot pedal and escorts him out of the factory. Then the foreman goes over to the big boss on a catwalk overlooking the factory. The big boss gives him some money. Your Dad is watching this as well, without missing a beat on the line. We both realize the same thing: Your Dad has just put some poor bastard back on the bread line, and made a bonus for the foreman to boot. I get this feeling in my gut when I'm looking at your Dad: this ain't going to end well.
Another hour or so goes by. The foreman comes back to your Dad. Asks him if he thinks he can push the button on his right too. Your Dad just nods. The foreman pulls the man off of the button, and your Dad starts doing all three jobs like a conductor of a symphony: Stomp on the foot pedal, pull the switch with his left hand, and then push the button with his right. The three stations are about five feet apart, so your Dad has to really scoot back and forth to keep up. But, your Dad was quick like a cat, so he had no problems. The foreman walks the guy out, and heads back up the catwalk for bonus number two. Your Dad watches him coming down, and now I know things are going to turn south: your Dad's neck is slowly getting redder by the minute, and the red is inching its way up. If it hits the top of his head...well, let's just say I'm scared about more things than just losing my new job.
Finally, the lunch horn blows. We all walk outside to eat box lunches that the factory provides. That foreman is walking up and down through all of the men like a barnyard rooster. I'm trying to get your old man to talk to me, but he won't. Doesn't eat the box lunch either. Just sits there. And that red on his neck I was telling you about? It's still inching its way up and it's almost to the top of his bald head. The horn sounds again, and back into the factory we go. Everyone is lining up at their spots, and the only sound is the shuffling of feet. Next thing I know, I here your Dad calling out to the foreman:
"Boss? Hey Boss?"
The foreman, a big, fat man, looks over.
"Yeah, what do ya want?"
"You gotta broom?"
The foreman looks puzzled.
"Yeah, sure. Why?"
"Well, you better get it over here...hurry."
The foreman can hear the urgency in your Dad's voice, so he starts running, if you want to call it that. The fat rolls on his body undulate like waves on the beach by the time he finds a broom and rushes it over to your Dad.
"Well, here it is...what do you want me to do with it?"
The factory is dead quiet. Not a sound. Everyone, including the big boss on the catwalk, is watching and listening as your Dad says...
"Why don't you shove it up my ass...and then, besides doing the work of three men, I can sweep the floor for you while I'm at it."
The factory erupted in laughter. Everyone was laughing, except for the foreman...and your Dad...and me. The foreman walked away, and came back with five men. Told your Dad, and me, to hit the road. Your Dad told him he wasn't leaving until he got paid. That's when they called the cops. They were the ones that escorted us out. I figured, once we got outside, that we would leave town. Not your old man. He just stood there and waited. A few hours later, the factory whistle blew, and the men came filing out. We followed that foreman to the bar up the street. I watched your Dad beat that man half senseless, then empty his pockets. The fat bastard had over two hundred dollars in cash. Bonus money for the month for eliminating jobs. I would have taken all of it. Back in the Depression, that was a King's Ransom, boy. Not your Dad. He took eight dollars. Gave me two. Then he made me spend the night in a barn with him. Next morning, we were back out in front of that factory. Your Dad found the two men he'd put out of work the day before, and gave each one of them two dollars. Then we went to the rail yards, hopped a train, and headed east.
The story was a lot shorter when my Dad told it to me growing up. No mention of him being the hero, no mention of cops, putting men out of work, let alone beating some guy half to death. The moral for me when I was young: If you're feeling overwhelmed by the circumstances in your life, just remember that things could always be worse. My lovely wife, Cherish, and I still look at each other, from time to time, and say...Gotta broom? Makes us laugh and remember that we aren't as overworked as we might think, and things aren't as bad as they seem.
The second moral I got was one that my Dad made clear in other stories as well: if you know that you're going to go out anyway; it's better to go out with a bang instead of a whimper. "Gotta broom?" also means taking your lumps with pride, standing up for what you know is right, even when you are sure it's going to cost you.
The third moral I learned from the story is very basic. It's Biblical in its concepts, and one of the truest things I know: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. My Dad couldn't live with the thought of having two men...and their families, go hungry just so he could eat...and line some fat bastard's pockets by being quiet. There was no Disney ending to that story for my Dad. No being carried off on every body's shoulders...no parades. In fact, he probably went hungry longer than he needed to for having done it. But, my Father's words come back to me today as I write this as if he were standing in front of me:
You don't do what's right so people will notice. You do what's right...because it's the right thing to do."
I've always wished that I could be even half the man that my Dad was. It'll never happen. But, something better has. My son, Chance. He's every bit the man that my Dad was...maybe more.
So, if you're ever feeling over-run by life, just ask yourself a question:
Gotta Broom?
I hope if you do...it brings a smile to your face...and peace to your heart.
I love you, Dad. You taught Chance well on those fishing trips in Heaven...
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Thursday, May 6, 2010
HEROES FOR MY SON...WHO ARE YOUR HEROES?
http://www.headlinenewsmakers.com/?key=4ecebc8dc00d519bf98acf149cc490e6
I have always been a reader. My parents joked that they never saw me without something to read in my hands: A volume of the encyclopedia, the dictionary, a novel, a comic book...even the cereal box when I was eating was fodder to my appetite. I read the way a starving man eats when presented with a Las Vegas buffet. I was voracious...and I ate everything.
I have gotten pickier as I have gotten older. The old classics long since consumed numerous times, I have searched over the years for contemporary writers who can hold my interest. Sadly, there have been few. That is why I have gone to predominately non-fiction reading over the3 course of my adult life. But...when I do find an author that I truly enjoy, I await their newest tome like a four year old anticipates Christmas morning.
Some of my favorite writers are, in no particular order: Stephen King, Lee Child (the Reacher books are a guilty pleasure), Preston & Child's Pendergast series, and Michael Connolly's Bosch series. These are works that I devour insatiably as soon as they become available.
There is another author who I discovered a few years ago whose work I truly enjoy: Brad Meltzer. His ability to weave thrilling, yet plausible stories, keeps me on the edge of my seat as I read...a not to easy task any more with my jaded palette. He has just written a new, non-fiction book:
HEROES FOR MY SON.
You can find out more about it here:
http://www.bradmeltzer.com/
I've already pre-ordered my copy, and I await it with great anticipation.
Brad Meltzer is a man of many talents...and passions. His charitable foundation, ORDINARY PEOPLE CHANGE THE WORLD http://www.ordinarypeoplechangetheworld.com/ reaches out to help others in a unique way...by empowering anyone who wants to be a part of positive change to be able to do it with only $1. Most charities almost make you feel bad if you can't contribute large amounts. Not Brad's. $1 can change the world...which means that he is teaching, through his charity, that one person can change the world. This is a philosophy that I have always believed: that is always the actions of one person that begins great change. That belief has led me to view, as heroes, many people that the world would overlook.
My greatest hero growing up was my Dad. I never thought that anyone could ever replace him atop the pinnacle of my hero worship...but I was wrong. First, my wife Cherish (who happens to be my number one hero), then my children, have all surpassed my Dad...which I know he would be happy about.
It's not just about having heroes...it's about making sure that they know that they're your hero. I made sure that my dad knew. I've tried, especially since my heart attack, to make certain that my wife and children know what heroes they are to me. I'm also trying to make sure that other people in my life, ordinary people, know what heroes they are...and can be.
If you follow this link:
http://www.headlinenewsmakers.com/?key=4ecebc8dc00d519bf98acf149cc490e6
you'll see a unique way to let people know that they are your hero. Go to the site. Watch the video about Cherish. Spend a few minutes thinking about who you want to tell that they are a hero to you...then make your own video and let them know.
Many thanks to Brad Meltzer, for this unique tool and opportunity to reach out to those we love and admire. Take the time to let someone know what they have meant to you. It'll make their day...and yours. Change the world...one person at a time...starting with yourself.
Make a difference.
Make a change.
And, if you want a great book for Fathers day, or just for someone you really love, make sure to buy
HEROES FOR MY SON.
You'll be glad you did.
I have always been a reader. My parents joked that they never saw me without something to read in my hands: A volume of the encyclopedia, the dictionary, a novel, a comic book...even the cereal box when I was eating was fodder to my appetite. I read the way a starving man eats when presented with a Las Vegas buffet. I was voracious...and I ate everything.
I have gotten pickier as I have gotten older. The old classics long since consumed numerous times, I have searched over the years for contemporary writers who can hold my interest. Sadly, there have been few. That is why I have gone to predominately non-fiction reading over the3 course of my adult life. But...when I do find an author that I truly enjoy, I await their newest tome like a four year old anticipates Christmas morning.
Some of my favorite writers are, in no particular order: Stephen King, Lee Child (the Reacher books are a guilty pleasure), Preston & Child's Pendergast series, and Michael Connolly's Bosch series. These are works that I devour insatiably as soon as they become available.
There is another author who I discovered a few years ago whose work I truly enjoy: Brad Meltzer. His ability to weave thrilling, yet plausible stories, keeps me on the edge of my seat as I read...a not to easy task any more with my jaded palette. He has just written a new, non-fiction book:
HEROES FOR MY SON.
You can find out more about it here:
http://www.bradmeltzer.com/
I've already pre-ordered my copy, and I await it with great anticipation.
Brad Meltzer is a man of many talents...and passions. His charitable foundation, ORDINARY PEOPLE CHANGE THE WORLD http://www.ordinarypeoplechangetheworld.com/ reaches out to help others in a unique way...by empowering anyone who wants to be a part of positive change to be able to do it with only $1. Most charities almost make you feel bad if you can't contribute large amounts. Not Brad's. $1 can change the world...which means that he is teaching, through his charity, that one person can change the world. This is a philosophy that I have always believed: that is always the actions of one person that begins great change. That belief has led me to view, as heroes, many people that the world would overlook.
My greatest hero growing up was my Dad. I never thought that anyone could ever replace him atop the pinnacle of my hero worship...but I was wrong. First, my wife Cherish (who happens to be my number one hero), then my children, have all surpassed my Dad...which I know he would be happy about.
It's not just about having heroes...it's about making sure that they know that they're your hero. I made sure that my dad knew. I've tried, especially since my heart attack, to make certain that my wife and children know what heroes they are to me. I'm also trying to make sure that other people in my life, ordinary people, know what heroes they are...and can be.
If you follow this link:
http://www.headlinenewsmakers.com/?key=4ecebc8dc00d519bf98acf149cc490e6
you'll see a unique way to let people know that they are your hero. Go to the site. Watch the video about Cherish. Spend a few minutes thinking about who you want to tell that they are a hero to you...then make your own video and let them know.
Many thanks to Brad Meltzer, for this unique tool and opportunity to reach out to those we love and admire. Take the time to let someone know what they have meant to you. It'll make their day...and yours. Change the world...one person at a time...starting with yourself.
Make a difference.
Make a change.
And, if you want a great book for Fathers day, or just for someone you really love, make sure to buy
HEROES FOR MY SON.
You'll be glad you did.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
LOST: THE BOOK OF JOB and the ULTIMATE GAME
I don't think that this is what the writers of LOST are doing with the story. This is just what the storyline on LOST reminds me of at the moment. With that in mind, let's move on...
If you haven't read the Book of Job in the Bible, you should. Very powerful and informative stuff. Not very empowering to the Church in today's world...at least not the Churches that make God your personal genie and claim that you determine your own destiny. Not even very good for those who claim to have chosen Christ rather than the other way around. Too bad. It's always been a big help to me.
So...what is the main theme running throughout Job? Let's look at the story.
First we're told that Job is a really good guy. He's so good, in fact, that he prays for other people just in case they may have screwed up. He's rich, powerful, fears God, shuns evil, and probably helps little old ladies cross the street. Couldn't be any better of a guy.
The Sons of God, whoever they are (and yes, I think I do, but that's for another time) show up to hang out with God up in Heaven. Satan is with them. This means it's after his fall as Lucifer. He still has access to God as our accuser. God asks him the equivalent of, "What's up?" Satan's response?
"Oh, you know...hangin'...chillin'...checkin' stuff out down on the Earth."
God's reply is very informative in many ways. He asks Satan if he's checked out Job. Then, God brags on Job. Says there is, "...none like him in all the earth."
Wow. Can you imagine God saying that about you? I can't. Maybe the other way...like, hey, look at Chris...you ever seen such a screw-up in all your days? Job, unlike yours truly, was obviously high on God's list.
Satan gets chippy back with God...says, sure...who wouldn't do good and be cool with all that stuff you've given him. Take his stuff away, and he'll curse you to your face. God tells Satan to knock himself out...take it all...just don't touch Job. And...off Satan goes. He takes all of Job's stuff. Kills all of his kids. Really screws him over. Know what Job says? "I didn't have nothing when I got here...sure ain't taken nothing with me when I go...God gave it to me, He can take it back...it's all His. Thanks for lettin' me have it for awhile."
This is powerful stuff. Have you ever thought, or heard from somebody else, "Why do bad things happen to good people?" Job was a good guy. Why did that happen to him? Well, who brought his name up? It wasn't Satan...it was God. Let's look at what happened next.
Some time goes by. We aren't told how much. The Sons of God and Satan are back up hangin' out with God. God asks Satan again, "Where you been?"
Satan tells him again..."hangin', checkin', chillin'...
Now God brings Job up AGAIN. "He's still my boi, and even though I let you screw with him for no reason, he still stands strong."
Satan's reply? "You let me take his stuff...but a man would sell his own soul for his life and health...let me screw with him that way and he'll curse you to your face." God says OK, but you can't kill him.
So...who brought Job into all of this both times? God did. This whole thing is a bet between God and Satan...and God is betting on Job!
Satan screws with Job really bad now. Boils from the top of his head to the soles of his feet. His wife tells him to curse God so he can die. He tells her to shut up..."...you want the good stuff from God? Then you gotta take the bad too." Didn't do anything wrong. Better man than me. Can't say much for his wife, though. I'll take mine any day.
This is where Satan does his best work. First he has the wife screw with him. Now his three best friends show up. And, how do they comfort Job? By telling him that he must have a secret sin in his life, or God wouldn't be doing this to him. Nice.
A little story from me now. Some of you know I have a degenerative neuropathy. The pain is so bad, it feels like someone injected all of my veins with gasoline and then set them on fire. Most of the time I can block out the pain well enough, but sometimes...anyway, a few years ago, I was hanging with this other Pastor. Nice enough guy. I had told him all about my past. Pretty much everything. Not a pretty picture, but I have no delusions of grandeur. So...one day the nerve damage hits like it's never hit before. I call him and ask for prayer. The pain goes on non-stop for two days. I start going through a check list in my mind of anything in my life that's changed recently. Well, I had just started taking an "energy boosting" vitamin pack. One of the ingredients is the worst thing to take if you have my neuropathy. I stopped taking the supplements, and the pain went back down to its normal hell.
Two days later, this Pastor calls me. Says he knows why my pain is soooo bad. You see, God spoke to him. That's right...God spoke to him. Directly. Personally. God told him that my pain was punishment for secret sins in my life. If I just confessed my secret sins to him (the pastor, not God), then my pain would go away. I asked when when God told him all of this; he said the night before. He asked if he could come over. Sure. Please do. Apparently, neither God nor this Pastor knew the pain had been caused by the vitamin pack and had been gone for three days.
I let him go through his whole routine when he came over. It was filled with how much he loved me, how long he had fasted for me, how God spoke to him...you get the idea. I let him talk. God had told him just how urgent it was for me to confess these secret hidden sins to him. You can imagine his surprise when I told him about the vitamins and being back to normal for three days. I told him I didn't know which God he'd been talking to...but it wasn't my God. Mine didn't make mistakes like that. He left...very embarrassed and trying to act like he hadn't said what he said...oh, and by the way...please don't tell any of the congregation about this. Please?
You see...this Pastor was getting ready to try and pull some financial shenanigans at his church. He suspected that I might know. He wanted to have dirt on me to use in case I tried to out him. I didn't care to out him. Not worth my time. And anybody who knows me, and thinks I have secret, worse sins than I cop to, isn't very bright. The ones I own are bad enough, thank you very much.
Am I comparing myself to Job? God forbid. Job was a righteous man. God said so Himself. Me? Not so much. However, we all go through tests and trials. What we need to remember is this...
God is betting on you. He loves you. He wants you to win. It isn't about how you look doing it. This life isn't a sprint. It's a combination marathon/obstacle course/gauntlet. Tough stuff. Doesn't matter what order you finish in. Just finish. And...God has already promised that you will finish. Keep your head up. You'll make it. Just don't quit.
At the end of Job's story, God gives him ten times more than he had before (same nagging wife, though...I'm sure glad I've got you Cherish) and tells Job's friends that He won't even listen to their prayers anymore because of how bad they spoke about Him. They have to beg Job to pray for them. The real kicker: It never says that God ever told Job why he put him through all of that shit. Never tells Job it was all a bet.
Now, back to LOST. Which character reminds me of Job?
John Locke. The true believer. The only thing he does wrong is finally ask why? Just like Job. Only mistake Job made was asking God why. Once God started to answer, Job changed his mind. Too late. Once God starts talking, He doesn't like being interrupted. You ask...He just might answer.
Last night's episode had the "Flocke Monster say that John Locke was a sucker for believing that the island brought him there for a reason. Maybe he was right. We all feel like suckers sometimes when we try and do things God's way. But...
If the Flocke Monster represents Satan, or evil...then you know that he lies...all of the time. I think he was lying about John Locke. I think Satan can't stand it when we believe...especially when we cling desperately in the face of all reasons not to. That's what Locke did in the show. He was killed for it. But...
I don't think that the island is done with the real John Locke yet. I think he is still the key to the ending of Lost. I believe that some how, some way, he's going to come back. It will be his return that ultimately defeats the Flocke Monster. His faith...
I know it's hard to remember when you're eyeball deep in shit that that is what it takes to make the flowers grow. But...it's much harder to remember, when you're standing in that beautiful field of flowers later...that you wouldn't be there...if you hadn't been eyeball deep in shit before.
Just as God uses our faith in Him to defeat our enemy. So, hang in there. Finish the race. God's cheering for you...and so am I.
If you haven't read the Book of Job in the Bible, you should. Very powerful and informative stuff. Not very empowering to the Church in today's world...at least not the Churches that make God your personal genie and claim that you determine your own destiny. Not even very good for those who claim to have chosen Christ rather than the other way around. Too bad. It's always been a big help to me.
So...what is the main theme running throughout Job? Let's look at the story.
First we're told that Job is a really good guy. He's so good, in fact, that he prays for other people just in case they may have screwed up. He's rich, powerful, fears God, shuns evil, and probably helps little old ladies cross the street. Couldn't be any better of a guy.
The Sons of God, whoever they are (and yes, I think I do, but that's for another time) show up to hang out with God up in Heaven. Satan is with them. This means it's after his fall as Lucifer. He still has access to God as our accuser. God asks him the equivalent of, "What's up?" Satan's response?
"Oh, you know...hangin'...chillin'...checkin' stuff out down on the Earth."
God's reply is very informative in many ways. He asks Satan if he's checked out Job. Then, God brags on Job. Says there is, "...none like him in all the earth."
Wow. Can you imagine God saying that about you? I can't. Maybe the other way...like, hey, look at Chris...you ever seen such a screw-up in all your days? Job, unlike yours truly, was obviously high on God's list.
Satan gets chippy back with God...says, sure...who wouldn't do good and be cool with all that stuff you've given him. Take his stuff away, and he'll curse you to your face. God tells Satan to knock himself out...take it all...just don't touch Job. And...off Satan goes. He takes all of Job's stuff. Kills all of his kids. Really screws him over. Know what Job says? "I didn't have nothing when I got here...sure ain't taken nothing with me when I go...God gave it to me, He can take it back...it's all His. Thanks for lettin' me have it for awhile."
This is powerful stuff. Have you ever thought, or heard from somebody else, "Why do bad things happen to good people?" Job was a good guy. Why did that happen to him? Well, who brought his name up? It wasn't Satan...it was God. Let's look at what happened next.
Some time goes by. We aren't told how much. The Sons of God and Satan are back up hangin' out with God. God asks Satan again, "Where you been?"
Satan tells him again..."hangin', checkin', chillin'...
Now God brings Job up AGAIN. "He's still my boi, and even though I let you screw with him for no reason, he still stands strong."
Satan's reply? "You let me take his stuff...but a man would sell his own soul for his life and health...let me screw with him that way and he'll curse you to your face." God says OK, but you can't kill him.
So...who brought Job into all of this both times? God did. This whole thing is a bet between God and Satan...and God is betting on Job!
Satan screws with Job really bad now. Boils from the top of his head to the soles of his feet. His wife tells him to curse God so he can die. He tells her to shut up..."...you want the good stuff from God? Then you gotta take the bad too." Didn't do anything wrong. Better man than me. Can't say much for his wife, though. I'll take mine any day.
This is where Satan does his best work. First he has the wife screw with him. Now his three best friends show up. And, how do they comfort Job? By telling him that he must have a secret sin in his life, or God wouldn't be doing this to him. Nice.
A little story from me now. Some of you know I have a degenerative neuropathy. The pain is so bad, it feels like someone injected all of my veins with gasoline and then set them on fire. Most of the time I can block out the pain well enough, but sometimes...anyway, a few years ago, I was hanging with this other Pastor. Nice enough guy. I had told him all about my past. Pretty much everything. Not a pretty picture, but I have no delusions of grandeur. So...one day the nerve damage hits like it's never hit before. I call him and ask for prayer. The pain goes on non-stop for two days. I start going through a check list in my mind of anything in my life that's changed recently. Well, I had just started taking an "energy boosting" vitamin pack. One of the ingredients is the worst thing to take if you have my neuropathy. I stopped taking the supplements, and the pain went back down to its normal hell.
Two days later, this Pastor calls me. Says he knows why my pain is soooo bad. You see, God spoke to him. That's right...God spoke to him. Directly. Personally. God told him that my pain was punishment for secret sins in my life. If I just confessed my secret sins to him (the pastor, not God), then my pain would go away. I asked when when God told him all of this; he said the night before. He asked if he could come over. Sure. Please do. Apparently, neither God nor this Pastor knew the pain had been caused by the vitamin pack and had been gone for three days.
I let him go through his whole routine when he came over. It was filled with how much he loved me, how long he had fasted for me, how God spoke to him...you get the idea. I let him talk. God had told him just how urgent it was for me to confess these secret hidden sins to him. You can imagine his surprise when I told him about the vitamins and being back to normal for three days. I told him I didn't know which God he'd been talking to...but it wasn't my God. Mine didn't make mistakes like that. He left...very embarrassed and trying to act like he hadn't said what he said...oh, and by the way...please don't tell any of the congregation about this. Please?
You see...this Pastor was getting ready to try and pull some financial shenanigans at his church. He suspected that I might know. He wanted to have dirt on me to use in case I tried to out him. I didn't care to out him. Not worth my time. And anybody who knows me, and thinks I have secret, worse sins than I cop to, isn't very bright. The ones I own are bad enough, thank you very much.
Am I comparing myself to Job? God forbid. Job was a righteous man. God said so Himself. Me? Not so much. However, we all go through tests and trials. What we need to remember is this...
God is betting on you. He loves you. He wants you to win. It isn't about how you look doing it. This life isn't a sprint. It's a combination marathon/obstacle course/gauntlet. Tough stuff. Doesn't matter what order you finish in. Just finish. And...God has already promised that you will finish. Keep your head up. You'll make it. Just don't quit.
At the end of Job's story, God gives him ten times more than he had before (same nagging wife, though...I'm sure glad I've got you Cherish) and tells Job's friends that He won't even listen to their prayers anymore because of how bad they spoke about Him. They have to beg Job to pray for them. The real kicker: It never says that God ever told Job why he put him through all of that shit. Never tells Job it was all a bet.
Now, back to LOST. Which character reminds me of Job?
John Locke. The true believer. The only thing he does wrong is finally ask why? Just like Job. Only mistake Job made was asking God why. Once God started to answer, Job changed his mind. Too late. Once God starts talking, He doesn't like being interrupted. You ask...He just might answer.
Last night's episode had the "Flocke Monster say that John Locke was a sucker for believing that the island brought him there for a reason. Maybe he was right. We all feel like suckers sometimes when we try and do things God's way. But...
If the Flocke Monster represents Satan, or evil...then you know that he lies...all of the time. I think he was lying about John Locke. I think Satan can't stand it when we believe...especially when we cling desperately in the face of all reasons not to. That's what Locke did in the show. He was killed for it. But...
I don't think that the island is done with the real John Locke yet. I think he is still the key to the ending of Lost. I believe that some how, some way, he's going to come back. It will be his return that ultimately defeats the Flocke Monster. His faith...
I know it's hard to remember when you're eyeball deep in shit that that is what it takes to make the flowers grow. But...it's much harder to remember, when you're standing in that beautiful field of flowers later...that you wouldn't be there...if you hadn't been eyeball deep in shit before.
Just as God uses our faith in Him to defeat our enemy. So, hang in there. Finish the race. God's cheering for you...and so am I.
Monday, April 19, 2010
JUST A COUPLE OF OLD QUEENS
http://www.bilerico.com/2010/04/sonoma_county_ca_separates_elderly_gay_couple_and.php
You know, I always start out with the best of intentions when I sit down to write. I have a plan...something I want to do. Sometimes it's on one of my screenplays...sometimes it's on one of my other projects...sometimes it's a blog. I always have a plan. But...the best laid plans of mice and men...
My good friend Patti posted the above link the other day on Facebook. If you haven't read it yet, please do. It's about the tragic consequences to an older gay couple because of their inability to get married. If, after reading it, you're not heartbroken...don't read any more of this blog...because the heartbreak of their circumstance, and my outrage at it, is what this blog is about.
The old men in the above photo at least are together...something that was denied to the couple when they were forcibly separated and put into two separate nursing homes...one of the men against his will. If you're married, or if you've ever loved someone, I want you to imagine...
Imagine not being allowed to see your spouse after they've suffered a life threatening injury...never seeing them again in the final three months of their life.
Imagine not being allowed to have a say in their medical care.
I imagine having the home that the two of you have shared for over twenty years taken away from you.
Imagine having all of your possessions sold without your consent...all but one scrap book...the one your lover spent the last few months of their life putting together for you.
Imagine no last look...
Imagine no last words...
Imagine no last touch...
Imagine no last kiss...
Imagine no last embrace...
Imagine the pain...the heartache...
Imagine.
This is a tragedy that didn't need to happen. And yet, tragedies like this happen all the time to Gay and Lesbian couples. They've been happening to them for far too long...and there's no end in sight.
Now, you might think it's odd for me, a straight Christian minister, to be such a strong advocate for Gay/Lesbian rights. Let me explain to you why I am.
First, you should read these two blogs I wrote a while back:
Hopefully, they answered some of your questions on my position. The Scriptural one is beyond question to anyone who reads their Bible. "They'll know that you are my Disciples because you love one another." And, of course, "...Love God with all that you are, and love your neighbor as yourself." The parable of the Good Samaritan that I quote in those blogs doesn't leave Christians any wriggle room about how to treat others. There is, however, another Biblical aspect that is overlooked:
Following the laws of your country.
Which brings me to this:
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that ALL men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are, Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.
You know, most of the men who worked on the Declaration weren't even Christians, at least not in a strictly Scriptural sense. If you doubt that, I challenge you to read Thomas Jefferson's Bible and see how much he cut out. Most of them were Deists, at best. The people who helped formulate the thought of the day, like Thomas Paine, were atheists...and yet they had the sense to word that document very carefully.
If your Creator endows you with the rights...only He can take them away. They're not up to a vote. No change in government, no king or queen, no whim of public opinion can alter them. Also, the original wording was "inalienable", not unalienable. So? Read the following definitions of the two words:
"Unalienable: incapable of being alienated, that is, sold and transferred." Black's Law Dictionary, Sixth Edition, page 1523:
You can not surrender, sell or transfer unalienable rights, they are a gift from the creator to the individual and can not under any circumstances be surrendered or taken. All individuals have unalienable rights.
Inalienable rights: Rights which are not capable of being surrendered or transferred without the consent of the one possessing such rights. Morrison v. State, Mo. App., 252 S.W.2d 97, 101.
You can surrender, sell or transfer inalienable rights if you consent either actually or constructively. Inalienable rights are not inherent in man and can be alienated by government. Persons have inalienable rights. Most state constitutions recognize only inalienable rights.
"Unalienable: incapable of being alienated, that is, sold and transferred." Black's Law Dictionary, Sixth Edition, page 1523:
You can not surrender, sell or transfer unalienable rights, they are a gift from the creator to the individual and can not under any circumstances be surrendered or taken. All individuals have unalienable rights.
Inalienable rights: Rights which are not capable of being surrendered or transferred without the consent of the one possessing such rights. Morrison v. State, Mo. App., 252 S.W.2d 97, 101.
You can surrender, sell or transfer inalienable rights if you consent either actually or constructively. Inalienable rights are not inherent in man and can be alienated by government. Persons have inalienable rights. Most state constitutions recognize only inalienable rights.
You see, you can give up inalienable rights, if you choose to. Not so with unalienable. They're permanent. All men...that means men and women.
The one thing I've always had against our founding Fathers was their cowardice. Yes, they stood up to the mightiest nation on earth at that time. But, you know who they wouldn't stand up to? Their own neighbors...friends...peers. That's why Washington, Jefferson and others didn't free their own slaves while they were alive. They put clauses in their wills, but...who could say anything to them then? We're still paying for that cowardice, in the civil rights issues of today.
Still, you might ask yourself why the whole marriage thing is so important to me. Do you know what miscegenation is? here's a link for you: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Miscegenation
Did you know that miscegenation laws weren't overturned by the US Supreme court until 1967? How about the fact that it took many of the remaining southern states years to comply? Alabama was the last hold out. They finally ratified it in 2000. That's right...2000.
I am mixed race. Part Native American. My wife's and my marriage would have been illegal in many states just 43 years ago. Some of you know me. I try to be a good Christian. But, can you imagine what I would do if some bureaucracy tried to separate my wife and I? Tried to keep me from her when she was ill or injured? I just had a heart attack a couple of months ago. What if she hadn't been allowed to be there for me because of my mixed race? That could have been the case not that long ago.
I followed up on the story of the two tragic men on a number of other sites. One of them had comments. That's where the , "just a couple of old queens" comes from. That was some alleged christian's remark about why it was no big deal. After all, it only happened to a couple of old queens. Those fags get what they deserve.
As a Christian, I'm tired of hearing that from those who say they represent my Savior. Sick and tired of it. I can't stop them...but, I can try and make sure that their voices aren't the only ones that are heard purporting to be voices of Christian thought.
So, from today on, my wife and I would like to be thought of as just a couple of old queens. Not really fair to her, mind you. She is, after all, very young...and very beautiful. But she wears the title proudly...as do I.
I would rather be a couple of old queens...than what I see passing itself off as Christianity most of the time.
I hope the Gay/Lesbian community doesn't mind. I know they'll love my wife...I'm a little harder to accept. But I try...
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About Me
- Christopher Blake
- Christopher Blake is a loving husband...devoted father...minister...crippled ex-cop...screenwriter...novelist...actor...and more than a little rough around the edges...