Killer Cancer

Harmon Killebrew has died.

I don't want to make anything more of this than it was - I didn't know him personally, he wasn't my favorite player or on my favorite team.

But he occupied a place in my childhood, as the 1968 Topps baseball card of mine (right) testifies. I knew who he was, of course. He was a mighty, mighty home run hitter, Paul Bunyanesque even, which is appropriate for an athlete tearing up the field in Minnesota. A terrific hitter and, by all accounts, a terrific person, which is good.

And yet, there is something very sad about Killebrew's death to me, something I can't quite put my finger on, but I have a notion what it is. I suppose what's bugging me can be summed up by critics as the usual sentimental and superstitious tripe that effervesces from a Christian worldview.

I have no desire to be maudlin, to drum up emotions that aren't there or even necessary. Something is just bugging me, that's all. Killebrew's death is sad and I hope his family finds comfort in the days to come. It is sad because another man whose work I admired as a child became old enough to die and that means the clock is ticking. For everybody. Maybe I'm just sobered by the brevity of life and the certainty of its end.

And maybe I'm sobered by the idea that being a terrific person isn't enough when the end comes.

Honest Abe - Wired

From "Bloody Crimes" by James Swanson we learn that President Abraham Lincoln was as hooked on technology as many of us are today:

"He haunted the army telegraph office for news of the battles raging in Virginia. He was addicted to this technology. It was an impatient habit he had formed in Washington. He did not like to wait for important news. To his delight, the War Department telegraph office was a short walk from the Executive Mansion. He became a habitue of the office, befriending the men employed here, to whom he often made surprise visits at any time of the day or night. Now he was standing over the telegraph operators at City Point, (Virginia, headquarters of the armies of the United States) and as soon as they transcribed the reports as they came off the wire, the president snatched the hurried scribblings from their hands."

Concept Is Lost

When the company John Doe worked for had an employee-suggestion competition, John told his staff to submit entries that would save money for the firm.

The winner was a man in John's department who suggested they post corporate memos on bulletin boards instead of printing 200 individual copies for distribution. He got a helium balloon with the company logo and one share of stock.

A memo announcing the prize went out to 200 people.

Engine Trouble

Since the lay off, I've been working on finding new work, of course. Updating resumes, scanning online sites, sending in apps with resumes attached, "etcetera, etcetera, etcetera." (You know, I remembered Yul Brenner saying this, but I associated it with "The Ten Commandments," not the movie it is actually from, which I have not seen since I was a wee lad and probably have never seen it in its entirety. Hello, Netflix!)

In the meantime, the little Escort wagon has been sitting in the driveway a lot, going nowhere. I do have a part time job in the evening, but usually I drive the newer Chevy we have because Kathy is not going to be using it and, as a bonus, the Chevy has a heater that works. The Escort's blower has blown itself out, so there is no heat to speak of. I bought an alleged heater a while back that plugs into the cigarette lighter and sits on top of the dash, ominously, like a swollen radar detector. It is very effective when clearing the foggy windshield, if by 'very effective' you mean it will clear a spot to peer through that is roughly the size of a softball and is about six inches below your line of sight.

Today it was time to put some coolant in the Escort's radiator as the little light, that may or may not indicate coolant is needed, has been on. I gathered all the relevant items for just such a task, took them to the car, and popped the hood.

Now when a person opens the hood of the car, he generally knows what to expect. Usually one expects to greeted by a lot of metal and rubber in proportions required to put braces on George Washington on Mt. Rushmore.

Well, I saw some of this, but what really caught my eye was the microwave oven-sized wad of leaves packed into the spaces in and around where the coolant overflow reservoir is. And I also saw a neat semi-circle torn out of the insulation attached to the underside of the hood.

Our front yard is a squirrel paradise, judging by the number of them I see most days. And I guess the engine compartment of the stationary automobile was just perfect for a new squirrel dwelling, and construction was underway. However I determined that this new construction was not up to code and, besides, had violated numerous zoning ordinances. It had to go.

However, no squirrels were available for the job, so I had to tear it out myself.

O Love That Will Not Let Me Go

I found this post last summer, but it seems as if it were waiting for me to come back to it now, what with all the little circumstances that attend my life now. I would encourage you to read the whole post that is linked here.

The lesson (I don't like that word in this case) that strikes me is that God fills in the missing parts. In the case of George Matheson, it was his sense of being abandoned by, first a fiance, and then by a sister. In that state of feeling alone, his heart can sing, "my God will not let me go!"

Right now, friends I know are burying loved ones. The brother of a friend lost his house in the tornadoes. Kathy and I both need to find work. A woman I know suffers a chronic illness that may take her life.

There is a Love, though, that will not let us go.

It is a strange "not letting go" however. This "not letting go" takes us through some very dark places. It takes us places where it seems that we have been let go. We suffer and we cry. We ask questions and don't hear answers. Matheson might have been the greatest leader of the church of Scotland of his day. Instead he lost his sight. Yet, he said he was not let go.

It seems, then, that in all our "not being let go" that we don't merely have Someone holding us as we walk through the valley. It may be that the One not letting us go is actually leading us into the valley.

How can it be otherwise, for He has never let us go?

The Internet and Our Brains

I have been noticing for some time my diminishing ability to think, to concentrate, to focus on any one thing for very long at all. It disturbs me a great deal. I've gotten worried that this trend would advance in my life to where all I would want to do is watch TV or play games. Well maybe I'm doing it to myself. Maybe you are doing it to yourself, too.

The internet is making us shallow samplers.

According to the book The Shallows: What The Internet Is Doing To Our Brains we are becoming "scanners and skimmers" but losing our "capacity for concentration, contemplation and reflection."

It may be that an Internet diet is required.

Finally

Our long national nightmare is over. The ugliest uniform in the NFL is no more. The Buffalo Bills return to a more classic, ye classy, look for 2011.

Providing there is a season, of course.

Yes, A Period of Consequences

I found this last summer but it is just as timely now as when I first saw it. The swell of evidence continues to pour in like water released from a dam after days of nonstop rain concerning the weakness of Obama. It is important to continue to resist his policies and to hang on until 2012 when we can elect an adult to the presidency, an adult who will be advised by adults.

I continue to hope there will not be irreparable harm done before then. An important, ye even chilling article.

Seeing Good Friday

Tonight's service at church ministered to me in a new way. It was a Good Friday service, of course, and pastor sounded a note I have probably heard before, but this time it was fresh. I won't be able to quote him verbatim, but I'll try to get the essence.

As Christians living when we do, we necessarily view Good Friday through Easter. We know what Good Friday means. This is an advantage the disciples did not have on crucifixion day. For them, all was dark and torn and stormy and dead and final. We can, thankfully, view Good Friday in hope and with all its meaning because we know about Easter and resurrection and epistles that explain it. Some of these letters are even written by ones who were convinced all was lost when the Romans killed their rabbi.

Here's what I took away: Don't approach Good Friday filled will somber dread. Easter people don't need to beat their breast and mourn. Of course I should be sorry for my sin, understanding that sin offends God, that God could rightly cast me into hell for my rebel heart and my rebellious crimes against Him - but I can't stay in sorrow for long because it is not the end of the story and I know the end of the story. I know about Easter. I know the Gospel.

As brutal and savage and depraved and unjust as Jesus' death was, it is life for me. The Gospel says that the Father made Him who knew no sin, Jesus, to be sin on my behalf. It's inexplicable, I know, but it is true nonetheless. And then, this spotless Lamb who was slain for my sins, rose from the grave showing that, not only is sin powerless, but so is the grave. O, death! Where is thy sting?

No, we do not mourn as the unbelievers and I will not linger over the brutality. But I will glory in the Cross and in ALL that it means, not just the Friday part.

Don't Waste Your Layoff, Part 1

Note: I freely and gladly acknowledge that the 'Don't Waste Your (fill-in-the-blank)' moniker is not original with me and joyfully credit John Piper and Desiring God Ministries as having created it. Piper's article 'Don't Waste Your Cancer' can be found here.

Thursday (March 31) my job ended. The company is going to get the work done with a server and a scanner. I am disappointed and I felt more emotion that I expected when I left the building for the last time, but I am trusting God Who knows and sees.

There are a lot of ways to begin I suppose, but the only way that makes any sense to me is to begin with God.

You will waste your layoff if you do not believe it is designed for you by God. God, Who is Sovereign has brought this into my life - He allowed it, therefore He planned it and so it has purpose. God does not act willy-nilly. He knew about it and could have prevented it, yet He did not. It is His Will for me. The choice before me is to either bless Him or curse Him.

After having experienced the sudden and complete loss of property and family, Mr. and Mrs. Job had this exchange: "Then (Job's) wife said to him, 'Do you still hold fast your integrity? Curse God and die.' But he said to her, 'You speak as one of the foolish women would speak. Shall we receive good from God, and shall we not receive evil?' In all this Job did not sin with his lips." Job 2:9-10

Cursing God for calamity is sin. Attributing the calamity to something other than the hand of God is sin. God directs all human affairs and we honor Him by saying so.

From the Psalms today:

In peace I will both lie down and sleep, for You alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety. (Psalm 4:8)

I sought the Lord, and He answered me and delivered me from all my fears.

Those who look to Him are radiant, and their faces shall never be ashamed.

This poor man cried, and the Lord heard him and saved him out of all his troubles.

The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear him, and delivers them. (Psalm 34:4-7)

Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good!

Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him!

Oh, fear the Lord, you his saints, for those who fear Him have no lack!

The young lions suffer want and hunger; but those who seek the Lord lack no good thing. (Psalm 34:8-10)

I will not waste my layoff if I grow in the fear of God.

Facist and Communist Killers

Hitler's name is very nearly a curse. A cold-blooded killer who obliterated 6 million or so souls, the Fascist Fuhrer is despised.

But Communist mass murderers are iconic heroes to many our fellows. What gives? This video explores this question.

In The Yard Today

MSU Didn't Belong

The Missouri State Bears did not get ripped off.

The truth is they aren't good enough to get into the tournament. That's not the same as saying they are not better than any team that did make it because I think they are better than a few of them.

But they didn't get in because they didn't beat any strong teams, didn't play any strong teams and lost to some teams that aren't very strong at all.

And when the Golden Ticket was on the line in the MVC tournament title game they lost. They failed to get past Indiana State, a team the Bears were three games better than over the course of the regular season. MSU didn't get it done. It's not the committee's fault. It's not the power conferences fault.

It's the Bears fault.

Birthday Bride

Today is my wife's birthday and, unfortunately, she is down with some fever-inducing bug. That is an un-Happy condition on your Birthday.

I have sung Kathy's praises on many occasions and she deserves it. She is most caring, most sensitive and most interested in others' well-being. I have often described how I am a better person for having known her, indeed, for having been married to her. But how does it happen?

She cares. Intensely. She is of the "Why settle?" school of thought whereas I'm more tempted to merely get by. When I am struggling over whether or not to eat the second hamburger, or whether or not to stay up late, she says, "Why struggle? Just do what's right." It's beautifully simple. Why struggle?

For this influence and for a thousand other sweet gifts she has given, I am most fortunate. I am so thankful for a marriage that is growing sweeter, deeper and more alive as time goes on. How is this possible?

It's not because of extra hamburger boy, I'll tell you that.