Giving and receiving

It is not Christmas or a birthday. Yet the idea of presents can be on my mind at times. I have a hard time sometimes as I relate to others. To shed my shell easily.
The idea of giving of myself in conversation is difficult as I am overwhelmed by the washing of the spume over the beach. I am that pebble that gets assaulted on the beach over and over again. I wish that I could just receive that wave torrent gradually and understand nuances of relationships.
At times, it can be a little overwhelming. I don't know if it is from my neurological difficulties or just stubbornness. I do want to give and receive in a relationship, Lord. Just show me how I can do that better.
And I am sensitive, Lord, for I tickle easily.

You sum it up best as you prepared the brunch in John 21 as you prepared a meal for your disciples after Peter handed you the fish from the net!!!

I am ready to sit down to a meal with you, Lord.

Back to the shore

Jesus is back at the shore, calling the disciples back to remembrance to where they came from.
So here are Peter and his other disciples, of whom Jesus calls them as friends.

They set out on a fishing journey that was fruitless to begin with but when Jesus directs them to cast the net on the other side of the boat, the fish fill their nets to the full without breaking any of the net. It was sturdy to hold the whole shebang together.

In the final acts of the Gospel of John, Jesus is portrayed as a servant again , acting as a hostess for the disciples. Helping them not to fear as they did prior in the open room when he appeared the second time after his resurrection. What his appearing did was allow them to see who He really was.

This may be the secret of why I am afraid to learn and be comfortable around others sometimes. I need to trust God to set out my nets. Or to try to put them on the right side of the boat. I do desire Godly friendships with women but it is with God's direction that I will reel in the biggest catch that will serve me well in my life.

Which is why Jesus placed this parable at the very end -of how the act of fishing, serving and sharing a meal under His Lordship will bring the most satisfaction in one's life. As one can travel back in time through the Gospel of John, we see Jesus as the guest at the wedding acting as a servant and Jesus at the upper room before His death washing his disciple's feet. And healing those who were around Him also.

What a fascinating and multi=faceted God we serve!!!!
And what we see and hear in scripture is the tip of the iceberg for St. John said there would not be room for everything written about Jesus. All within a three year period of productive ministry=having learned which side to throw down His nets.

The Universe declares your majesty!!!!

Looking out from the video shots from the space shuttle Atlantis, I see the shots of our blue planet orbiting in space. This brings to mind the lyrics of the the song, "The universe declares your majesty.
For the universe can not recite scripture but God has given it a special language through which it can communicate God's goodness through the turning of a leaf in the wind. For it is this special language by which we are invited into the heart of God.

This is the first text that nature had back with God. For God can communicate with His creation in a variety of ways. yes, the cosmos can argue back at God with the floods and earthquakes, tornados and other disasters. But it can also respond back with glorious growth after these as well.

For whether I see a discarded snake skin on the side of the road or a budding leaf, all of it is a wonder that God created the world and included me in His plan as well. And He will return me back to dust to be part of His future creations as well!!!!

I can relate to that song , "God of Wonders" well by Chris Tomlin. For I understand and feel how he writes of how we need to celebrate the light and how we stumble in the darkness. It is easy when one starts out the day celebrating what God has done in our lives but often we stumble in the dark. Yet, we need the light to be shone on our lives. Just as the astronauts shone the light on the Hubble space telescope so its repairs could be done.

And they did so in conditions that they were not used to on a daily basis with the exception of the simulators. For we as christians face the same spots. We are called to live counter culturally as well. Yet I can celebrate with God with the way He clashes with culture as well.

Moving Day

I have learned over the past four months the value of scripture memory. I have learned how to move scripture around in my head and on paper and from the pages of scripture itself. Lord, I hope to learn even more how I am to move it around in my heart so that I may become more like Christ and more like the apostles and disciples that lived around the time of Jesus. May everyone be encouraged to remember the Scriptures and be filled with the joy of living well with Jesus.

An Opus of work

I was listening to a commencement address of President Obama at ASU. He stressed the idea of the opus of one's work. And the fact that it is never finished. The opus of any idea or work comes with the commencement of it. the word commencement stresses a beginning and also a completion too. It is a process for moving forward in a straight line- to meet some sort of objective.

I also reflect on how NASA is developing programs that will take travelers from the earth to the moon to Mars. And the lengthy journeys it will require and the stamina to develop the programs for these.

And today, the Hubble telescope is in the waiting room of the opthomologist. It is getting his drops now and will have its lenses dilated for the exam. Plenty of tight corners to peer through. And a hefty price tag. For spectacles that large cost A LOT. But the benefits for this exam will be great!!!

Flight To Paradise Island

Boarding for flight number 303 to the paradise down by the sea. Looking down from the picture window
seeing the lawn's sloping towards the patch of autumn swail and the sea beyond.

Mom is at the cockpit smoothly gliding this stately ship along its path. With her son, Scott, as a frequent attender and with Randy, my brother along with our dad at her side. We have not always had the time to be fully together in Maine at one time. But it was good to be. And to give my dad something to look forward to. Something that he really wants.
That has not always been this way with many delays and frustrations. Yet, this time it felt good to be together to slowly heal some of the mysteries of the distance and depth of our family.

Challenges crop on the instrument panel next to Mom's stick shift of life. The winds bellow forth making the plane hit some turbulence. We as a family never really know what the flight plan of the day will be.

As my mom is in charge of the dispensing of the daily medicines from 8 in the morning until 8 at night. As mom recalls to me often, "I never thought life would turn out this way, with me being caregiver for Walt." She cuts dad's happy pill in the blue pill cutter and closes its lid to remind her to give it to my dad. Mom also has to dispense the daily parkinsons, dementia and sleep disorder pills as well. My dad is a living walking pharmacy. It keeps him well and the illnesses at a controlled pace.

Mom reacted to me once when I told family ," Dad is fine." She said, " you know dad is ill." I do find it hard to admit that sometimes. I do say to others, "Mom does a good job taking care of my dad," I like to think of him as the fellow I went fishing with, took rides to the store and post offices, and had a few good times on the links and swimming at the Fairfield YMCA.

Yet, the reality of pill bottles and glasses of water surround our table. And the reminders to take the pills as well. Mom opens up the bottle or plastic baggies and places the multicolored pills in dad's hands and Dad gracefully swallows them with his water.
I find it hard seeing Dad this way , but I have the good memories and the times we continually share on the phone each week and the times that I have been his faithful roommate on vacations from Arizona to Maine to Minnesota. Something that not many sons can say that they have had.

Even the silence through sleep can be blessing. Or observing the occasional nocturnal dance of shadows that I have observed. Knowing that I am present with Dad for the time while I am on vacation with mom and dad.
A kind of blessing. A continuity. Just as the waves that have crashed the shore of Maine for many centuries, etching the rocks ever slowly- washing and shining them clean.

Our view out of the window of this spreading estate housing the Jocelyn and Kirkwood wings of Piper shores is of the Higgins beach to our left and the gingerbread house in front of us. And we see Sprague point ahead in the Harbor and a look at several islands in the distance. These islands look like distant cousins to some of the others that we have faced elsewhere Down East.
Whenever our guests arrive for a visit, they always comment, " this is the best view of the whole of Piper Shores.: Mom has commented that their jaws have dropped at times. There are only 6 of these units with such a sweeping view in each of the wings. How blessed that we have been able to pack a picture perfect view to each of our Maine outposts.

Which also makes it a perfect place for Dad to be guided through the last years of his life with my mom at his side. Mom has commented often to me how she talks to the health staff frequently in the frustration of her roles sometimes. Mom sometimes says, " I don't feel like a wife at times and am not a widow." One of the nurses said to her," what you are in, Lois, is in transition." Mom said, "that assured me."

Standing at the door keeping it open, letting in the fresh air and nutrients and keeping the illness in check. Blocking its full assault. Letting it gradually enter, but not to overwhelm us.
I look at my parents as full of grace and love. It is hard to face the gradual loss of who my dad is. And it is hard for me to sometimes let a wave of emotion to spread over me. For a tear to run down my cheek.

When I look at a tide chart or look out through the picture window, the changes in the tide are evident. The water ebbs and the water flows. The water hugs the sky's complexion, going from a bright blue sometimes to that of a somber grey. Yet, it looks to the sky to wear its coming outfit of the day with grace. And it gradually approaches and hugs the shore, something it has done for many centuries. Making its gentle marks on the earth. Just as mom makes gentle marks on her loved ones as well.

That is my mom. She tackles the rigors of the day. She gives to the community at Piper shores whether on the library which has been noted as one of the premier North East retirement community libraries. The library has a good collection of biographies, to poetry, science, fiction and mystery and local maine authors featured to name a few categories. I enjoy time browsing through the shelves as mom puts away the recently returned books or pulls the cards for books that no longer circulate. It is on the second floor of the Checkley Wing of the Piper Shores complex, the same wing as the fitness center and the guest rooms which I sometimes have used. Mom also spends some time at the store selling the basics such as cereal, milk, orange juice and toilet paper. Mom says, "this is my time of respite-to be able to volunteer and help others."

From my own life, I am thankful for the role moms play in life and especially my mother. Even early on as I have shared previously, she employed her same gentle touch as she guided my life. From her first initial touch of me as an infant to the time she got into action in the huddle on her knees to jump start my life. As she reached out her arms out to raise this son, Scott, to life. To switch on the ignition switch to my engine of life.

We have been faced many hardships with my moms mom struggling in her last ten years with dementia and with my neurological difficulties and with my father's neurological issues as well. Yet, I find that constancy on the shore and the woods and in nature to be reassuring. To look out and see the shore present always.

The Pilot comes on and says, "Buckle your seat belts for the descent down through some turbulence."
When the plane lands and the view fades off into the distance, my memory takes hold of the scenes. Awaiting for another announcement for the return to paradise at the seashore. To hear that announcement of the universal gull calling me back for summer's commencement.

A break from the media.

The tides of the ocean come in and wash over the land.
When I grew up on the summer journey to the Maine cottage, we looked at the tidal charts which hung on the dampened paneled wall and monitored much of what we did that day on how the tides behaved. That was our major source of media for our natural cove at the time.

Often we would look outside and see when the lobstermen were coming in close to shore to pull their traps. During times of low tide, we could see large expanses of the mud flats. When the tide waters crested and headed towards shore, the land became submerged as the lobstermen maneuvered their skiffs and lobster boats to their pot buoys.

While the men were pulling their traps, we had the chance to watch their world through our binoculars. The exhaust from the boats puffed from behind them and we could hear the voices echoing from the shore. We saw them leaning into each other as their boats swayed with the Shepscot's river's current and saw them pulling on the winch to bring the traps to the side of their boats. The men were dressed in their red flannel shirts covered over by the yellow rain slickers and on they wore boots.

We did not watch the evening news since our cottage did not have a television. And I was not as knowledgeable about the outside world of politics and life since I lived most of the prior years in a sheltered and protective bubble of The School, a magnet school for the handicapped in Long Island, New York. During this time, I faced daily challenges of getting going in life. I sometimes hid under desks when loud noises happened and sometimes withdrew so I would not face things I did not want to.
And my mind had not become challenged and turned on to interpret my outer world. The world that I knew at the time was developing an academic routine and a set of life skills of speaking, walking and eating in order to thrive. When my mom and dad and I get together for our retreats in Maine, mom recalls to me of how she had to tickle my feet to wake me as an infant to get me to take some milk. Mom often says, "look at him now, he eats everything from our house and home. Now I am pleased to see how our son is doing so well."

You see, my dad has been a slight mystery to me. He has been a gentle giant of few words and limited by his own handicaps of 3/4 loss of his hearing and his gradual loss of his memory. Yet, we are woven together in our appearance and temperaments by our shared handicapped worlds.

What I have often wished is how the media could have portrayed for me a more close-up view of how youngsters with disabilities can deal more effectively with their worlds.
Just as the tide crests over onto land-preparing the rocks for their shiny appearance. Smoothing down their rough-hewed appearance to be held in one's hand by that gentle touch.

Instead during the evening hours, we would spend time on our front porch on the rockers as we watched the evening gulls pass overhead towards home at Gull Rock. This summer world in Maine when I grew up was simple. Yet seeing the routine of these simple things brought my inner being back into an equilibrium for me. A good pendulum for patience and restoring of a seethed soul.

I often asked my mom and dad why did the children treat me so badly. For I was the same person who left the private world of the School and entered the subsequent world of public school of which I never experienced before.
Times spent in being misunderstood by others and a lack of how people can be fairly treated. In a way, I wish that people could be treated more fairly and less critically. It hurt when I was not always treated well. I realize now that Media can play a crucial role in this as they portray in inspirational stories of how others survive and thrive in their hardships.

These times in Maine as I have written before have been moments when I have been encouraged to look at the natural beauty of a sunset or the scene of workers on their yachts or skiffs or lobsterboats.

And as a time to see how the thread of my Master Weaver has built a tapestry for me. To realize what I once thought was lost has now been found. To treasure moments with my parents. And seeing the importance of building foundations in my life. Just as looking at the simple tide chart on the wall. Being the only media that I needed at the time to understand the heart of Maine, my beloved.

An Easter Poem

Trees grow. Trees are cut down. Trees serve their purpose.

Just think, Jesus.

Born in a feeding trough by the lowing animals.
As a man being apprenticed by his step-father Joseph at the carpenters bench.
Yet Jesus is the carpenter of the world and the human soul.

Jesus facing the cross at Good Friday.
The table which we all face as we remember your death Jesus on that tree.

Yet, I am glad that I can cling to that old rugged cross. And be cleansed of my sin at each and every
moment when I often fail to see the big picture as I live life.

Your story is retold countless times Jesus as we gather around the pews of our churches and the sands on the beaches.
Listening to the birds on the shore and feeling the coolness go past our ears.

Lord,, let us open our hearts to you
just as you opened up that tomb of darkness.
You let that light in.
Let us enter in as well.
Experiencing the joy of your salvation.

For even the trees of the fields clap their hands with Joy.
Yes, even those trees from which you were born and the trees upon which your breath left the earth,
leaving us speechless and yes
thankful as well.

A wild Ride down an aisle

this weekend was a wild one- for the Lord Jesus.
I went to a men's conference with three thousand other men at Bloomfield, CT for an iron sharpens iron conference. One of the focuses was the rivalry between the Red Sox and the Yankees. Two pairs of tickets were being given away that afternoon.
Åt the end of the first session, I handed my ticket into the bucket for a drawing.
I went about the next few hours in a normal mode.

Then at 1:08 pm , the big buckets of entries were combined into one bucket and the name was drawn. The speaker announced into his microphone, "Scott Davis". I stood there amazed for a second and waved my hands and then had sixty seconds to make it to the front of the church.

Yet, I was in the upper balcony and when frozen, I did not quite have a get away plan made in case I won. I felt like one of the oscar winners shocked and out of breath for the moment. This was indeed one of those moments in time that get sung about.
Friends later said, some said, give it up and draw again when I did not make a quick appearance. But I am thankful for the grace allowed in the sixty=first second. I didn't deserve the extension, but it was granted.

I found one of the red-shirted ushers who helped guide me through this maze to the front of the church. I made my rocky-like approach down the aisle and ran past friends who were clapping and shouting my name in unison.

I grabbed the tickets. Thankful for this chance. When I got back to my seat, a little out of breath, i was glad.
My friend , Gary Davis, said, "I knew it would be you. Can I go too." I explained, "I only have two tickets. would love to but I can't take you. We both can't drive." Gary said to me, "You were suprised!!"

I told Gary, "Yes, I was, to say the least"
Mark took my picture of me holding the tickets in my hands smiling.

The next morning at church I was announced as the winner for the tickets after the slide show of the event.
I had plenty of friends high-fiving me for the win. It felt good.

But what will ultimately feel even better is when I walk through the pearly gates of heavens and find Jesus. And hear His welcoming and reassuring words , "Well Done good and faithful servant! Welcome home and enjoy your reward. For eternity . From the alpha to the omega.

Thanks Jesus for the lesson learned of knowing that the job is well done. Yet, I have a little more work to do. As is stated in Philipians 1:6, "He who began a good work in you will complete it until the day of Christ Jesus."
Remember even if not all is pearly in life, God is there in those small moments to surprise us with his grace, an undeserved favor at Christ's expense for our very benefit.

Keep in the game and run that race. And find the ushers in life to get you through the maze so you can run down the aisle to get that prize that Jesus is calling for you-that pair of box seats in heaven. To be seated next to Jesus for all of eternity with all of His saints through the years!!!!!!

trains breathing down the tracks

ON the way Home,
I heard the breath of the train,
its long legs churning back and forth.

Making huffs and puffs down the track.
Screeching out of the station.
Not seeing

but hearing its life leave the station.