If you've never seen or heard of it, Internet church sounds strange.
It would have to me had I not experienced it myself.
Though a long series of circumstances, Amanda and I have found ourselves hanging out at least once a week together and Amanda on her own at least two other times during the week as a volunteer at Life Church's Internet Campus.
Yes, it's church on the Internet in the sense of a worship service, an offering and a message.
But it's so much more than that.
We've connected with people from various parts of the country, including people in the area where Life Church is actually based - Oklahoma.
And we're having a blast with it!
My initial concern about the idea of online church was that it lacked personal, human connectivity.
I'm quickly learning that this is remedied with phone conversations, video chat and other forms of contact. Of course, nothing beats an encouraging hug or a pat on the back in a tough time. So, there's that to work out. But I think it will in due course, though I'm not exactly sure how.
And there is the actual expression of faith that must happen, but I know they have mechanisms for that and I think that will just happen naturally.
Amanda and I met on the Internet, as most of you know, so it seems natural that we would feel comfortable experiencing fellowship and other interaction through this medium.
I guess the best thing I can suggest is stay tuned!
Friday, February 06, 2009
Monday, January 05, 2009
Revamped!
Since I've taken some steps to increase the potential visibility of this blog, I decided over the past weekend to make it more navigable and catalog every post in some form or fashion, especially the posts which pre-date the label feature's availability.
Speaking of labels, please note the one entitled "essential posts." If you read no other posts on this blog, I'd appreciate you taking the time to read these, even though several are fairly lengthy. There are currently five posts in this folder.
You'll also find I've clarified my About Me info and even dropped a picture of Amanda and I in the profile so you'll know there's a real human behind this. It should also be easier now to follow this blog with the Subscribe feature in a prominent location.
So please enjoy and let me know if you have questions!
Speaking of labels, please note the one entitled "essential posts." If you read no other posts on this blog, I'd appreciate you taking the time to read these, even though several are fairly lengthy. There are currently five posts in this folder.
You'll also find I've clarified my About Me info and even dropped a picture of Amanda and I in the profile so you'll know there's a real human behind this. It should also be easier now to follow this blog with the Subscribe feature in a prominent location.
So please enjoy and let me know if you have questions!
Thursday, January 01, 2009
Real problem or teapot tempest?
This story greeted me this New Year's Day morning and I just have to ask for opinions on this, regardless of perspective.
Let me put a framework on this first.
If we'd asked the late George Carlin to offer the invocation, it would have probably been bleeped often and sounded like an atheist's plea for the Christians to shut their pieholes, but it would have been inclusive of those who do not share the Christian faith and no one would not have asked him to sway from his bent. Or if they had, he wouldn't have listened.
Yet, there is an expectation - in some circles - for Rick Warren to "tone down" his expression of his faith by not naming the name of the One in whom he professes to have faith and whom he encourages others to call upon when he delivers the Inaugural invocation 19 days from now.
Sure, I think having Warren present is an attempt on President-elect Barack Obama's part to do what he said he would do election night - and that's try to be the president of those who did not vote for him. Millions of evangelicals did not vote for Obama, for a myriad of reasons. He should be given credit for acknowledging them. It sure beats the alternative - ignoring the millions who voted red instead of blue.
So all this said, is it fair for those who are not fond of Warren's expected presence on the dais on Jan. 20 to expect him to exclude Jesus Christ from his prayer? Should he be mindful of the fact that not everyone in this nation professes faith in Christ and offer some form of generic, all-inclusive prayer? Or, should he stay true to his faith and not waver one iota? Please opine!
Let me put a framework on this first.
If we'd asked the late George Carlin to offer the invocation, it would have probably been bleeped often and sounded like an atheist's plea for the Christians to shut their pieholes, but it would have been inclusive of those who do not share the Christian faith and no one would not have asked him to sway from his bent. Or if they had, he wouldn't have listened.
Yet, there is an expectation - in some circles - for Rick Warren to "tone down" his expression of his faith by not naming the name of the One in whom he professes to have faith and whom he encourages others to call upon when he delivers the Inaugural invocation 19 days from now.
Sure, I think having Warren present is an attempt on President-elect Barack Obama's part to do what he said he would do election night - and that's try to be the president of those who did not vote for him. Millions of evangelicals did not vote for Obama, for a myriad of reasons. He should be given credit for acknowledging them. It sure beats the alternative - ignoring the millions who voted red instead of blue.
So all this said, is it fair for those who are not fond of Warren's expected presence on the dais on Jan. 20 to expect him to exclude Jesus Christ from his prayer? Should he be mindful of the fact that not everyone in this nation professes faith in Christ and offer some form of generic, all-inclusive prayer? Or, should he stay true to his faith and not waver one iota? Please opine!
Added thoughts to 2008
Last year (it feels good to say that) wasn't all bad. My Eeyore-ish tendencies will lead one to think this, so let me clarify.
In April, I took Jadyn to her first rock concert almost 300 miles from home by myself. We did just fine. And, in June, we visited family of mine I hadn't seen in going on 20 years and some of whom neither Amanda nor Jadyn had met. On this same trip, I also discovered that Amanda's best friend growing up treats me like she's known me all her life, too, and that's a blessing beyond description.
In 2008, I think we all learned more about our capabilities and Amanda and I are probably getting closer to sensing what it is we should really be doing. So that's not a waste at all.
So far in the new year, I'm trying to focus on seeing the silver lining - or at least reverse the negative lens through which I see things. Even though I'm really tired at this writing, it's working. Let's hope it continues to do so. Happy New Year!
In April, I took Jadyn to her first rock concert almost 300 miles from home by myself. We did just fine. And, in June, we visited family of mine I hadn't seen in going on 20 years and some of whom neither Amanda nor Jadyn had met. On this same trip, I also discovered that Amanda's best friend growing up treats me like she's known me all her life, too, and that's a blessing beyond description.
In 2008, I think we all learned more about our capabilities and Amanda and I are probably getting closer to sensing what it is we should really be doing. So that's not a waste at all.
So far in the new year, I'm trying to focus on seeing the silver lining - or at least reverse the negative lens through which I see things. Even though I'm really tired at this writing, it's working. Let's hope it continues to do so. Happy New Year!
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Out with the old, in with the new
So.
2008.
Yeah.
2008.
This was one of those years which were like spinach. Good for you in the long run; not really fun to endure in the interim.
I am about 24 pounds lighter than when the year began, but I don't like what it took to get me there - two infection bouts; one of which I'm dealing with right now as the year ends.
This is the year where - due to our own circumstances not directly related to the global economy - we had to tighten our belts in the wallet category. We learned a discipline we'd lacked previously, and wished we hadn't gotten there to begin with. But we did it and we're the better for it and we're grateful to see how things have worked out.
Amanda lost a job she loved but now - as the year closes - is still getting the opportunity to do it on a volunteer basis and really absorbed more into the ins and outs than she was when she was getting paid for it. Ah, the irony. She's got other full-time work and has had her own learning curves in that job too.
This year was a growing year in other, more obvious ways, too. - Our daughter grew and we generally loved the changes we've seen in her - we've just about conquered potty training and that's a huge milestone.
Aside from her growth, our own has been through painful lessons we'd prefer not to repeat. Here's hoping we learned them this time.
I guess the best I can hope and pray for in 2009 as that we act on the wisdom we learned in 2008 and develop in the ways which will beneficial to us and our service to our Lord and others around us.
2008.
Yeah.
2008.
This was one of those years which were like spinach. Good for you in the long run; not really fun to endure in the interim.
I am about 24 pounds lighter than when the year began, but I don't like what it took to get me there - two infection bouts; one of which I'm dealing with right now as the year ends.
This is the year where - due to our own circumstances not directly related to the global economy - we had to tighten our belts in the wallet category. We learned a discipline we'd lacked previously, and wished we hadn't gotten there to begin with. But we did it and we're the better for it and we're grateful to see how things have worked out.
Amanda lost a job she loved but now - as the year closes - is still getting the opportunity to do it on a volunteer basis and really absorbed more into the ins and outs than she was when she was getting paid for it. Ah, the irony. She's got other full-time work and has had her own learning curves in that job too.
This year was a growing year in other, more obvious ways, too. - Our daughter grew and we generally loved the changes we've seen in her - we've just about conquered potty training and that's a huge milestone.
Aside from her growth, our own has been through painful lessons we'd prefer not to repeat. Here's hoping we learned them this time.
I guess the best I can hope and pray for in 2009 as that we act on the wisdom we learned in 2008 and develop in the ways which will beneficial to us and our service to our Lord and others around us.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
What do you think?
I saw this bumper sticker and decided it would be great online discussion fodder, so I snapped a picture of it.
Regardless of whether you are a believer in Christ or not, please take a look at this bumper sticker and offer your response.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Friends
A touch on a shoulder. A genuine hug. A sincere inquiry about how one is doing.
Lately, I've been reassured that I have friends in my life who care. Though not everyone goes to our church, most do. Some, unfortunately, are many miles away.
I'm very glad to know that we have friends who love us unconditionally - often in spite of our obvious and even not-so-obvious flaws. I find myself caring intently about people who I've not always seen eye-to-eye with and knowing the feeling is mutual.
This isn't touchy, feely stuff - it's real-world.
And I think it's a true picture of God's grace.
As I try to reflect on what I'm thankful for, this is definitely something which fits in the category.
Lately, I've been reassured that I have friends in my life who care. Though not everyone goes to our church, most do. Some, unfortunately, are many miles away.
I'm very glad to know that we have friends who love us unconditionally - often in spite of our obvious and even not-so-obvious flaws. I find myself caring intently about people who I've not always seen eye-to-eye with and knowing the feeling is mutual.
This isn't touchy, feely stuff - it's real-world.
And I think it's a true picture of God's grace.
As I try to reflect on what I'm thankful for, this is definitely something which fits in the category.
Sunday, November 09, 2008
Eating crow
At this writing, Alabama's football team is 10-0, the Southeastern Conference West Division champion, four wins away from a national title and one season removed from a .500 finish.
The only clear reason for this is simple: Nick Saban is doing the job he was hired and paid a ridiculous amount of money to do.
I still think $4 million a year is outlandish. But the powers-that-be at Alabama are starting to look like they knew what they were doing. The taste of a potential national title is starting to feel like a promise and not a tease, one that can only come to reality with a little more patience on the part of the part of fans and players.
Let's don't get ahead of ourselves just yet. Mississippi State and Auburn would most likely relish the role of spoiler in knocking Alabama out of title contention and the team representing the SEC East in the conference title game will probably not go quietly.
And whomever Alabama is matched with for the national title game will most likely think they deserve it just as much as the Tide and will likely play accordingly.
So as an Alabama fan and graduate, I do not apologize for thinking that paying Saban the amount of money the university has shelled out is too much and I still think they did Sylvester Croom wrong.
But the investment in Saban is paying dividends and may result in the ultimate payout about two months from now - the 16-year title drought may finally come to a close.
The only right and proper thing to say from here on out is - Roll Tide!
The only clear reason for this is simple: Nick Saban is doing the job he was hired and paid a ridiculous amount of money to do.
I still think $4 million a year is outlandish. But the powers-that-be at Alabama are starting to look like they knew what they were doing. The taste of a potential national title is starting to feel like a promise and not a tease, one that can only come to reality with a little more patience on the part of the part of fans and players.
Let's don't get ahead of ourselves just yet. Mississippi State and Auburn would most likely relish the role of spoiler in knocking Alabama out of title contention and the team representing the SEC East in the conference title game will probably not go quietly.
And whomever Alabama is matched with for the national title game will most likely think they deserve it just as much as the Tide and will likely play accordingly.
So as an Alabama fan and graduate, I do not apologize for thinking that paying Saban the amount of money the university has shelled out is too much and I still think they did Sylvester Croom wrong.
But the investment in Saban is paying dividends and may result in the ultimate payout about two months from now - the 16-year title drought may finally come to a close.
The only right and proper thing to say from here on out is - Roll Tide!
Friday, October 31, 2008
Marking the month
I can't let a whole month go by without having blogged, so I'll put something up before October is gone in a matter of minutes.
October contains two significant dates in our family - My birthday and our wedding anniversary. This year marked our 10th as a wedded couple. We marked it, I believe, with a sense of accomplishment and an eye toward setting our feet on a solid path for the next 10.
In October, I continued to recover with no major setbacks from a severe infection which took place in early September in one of my legs I can see, but the month closes out with Amanda continuing to recover from one of the worst respiratory (cough, sinus, etc.) conditions she's ever had.
I guess this is just supposed to be normal life stuff but it seems like we've our share of it lately.
I know, "the rain falls on the just and the unjust" (a biblical quotation I can't recall verse and passage for at the moment). I also know that we are blessed beyond what we actually deserve.
But my back aches and I'm just plain weary right now.
I hear the words of Christ - which I haven't even fully understood even though I've heard or read them hundreds of times: "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls" (Matthew 11:28-29 NIV).
Lord, help us pick up your yoke and learn from you, not tiptoe around it or make more excuses. In Jesus' Name, Amen.
Just in the last few minutes, Jadyn walked out of her room, holding a blanket, looking for comfort. I'd heard her pull open her door. I held her just for a few seconds. The words of Jesus about coming to him as little children became very real to me in that instant. We should drop our pre-conceived notions about who He is and what we are and just come to him.
I'd bet we'd be surprised at what we find.
Let's hope there are good surprises ahead in November.
October contains two significant dates in our family - My birthday and our wedding anniversary. This year marked our 10th as a wedded couple. We marked it, I believe, with a sense of accomplishment and an eye toward setting our feet on a solid path for the next 10.
In October, I continued to recover with no major setbacks from a severe infection which took place in early September in one of my legs I can see, but the month closes out with Amanda continuing to recover from one of the worst respiratory (cough, sinus, etc.) conditions she's ever had.
I guess this is just supposed to be normal life stuff but it seems like we've our share of it lately.
I know, "the rain falls on the just and the unjust" (a biblical quotation I can't recall verse and passage for at the moment). I also know that we are blessed beyond what we actually deserve.
But my back aches and I'm just plain weary right now.
I hear the words of Christ - which I haven't even fully understood even though I've heard or read them hundreds of times: "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls" (Matthew 11:28-29 NIV).
Lord, help us pick up your yoke and learn from you, not tiptoe around it or make more excuses. In Jesus' Name, Amen.
Just in the last few minutes, Jadyn walked out of her room, holding a blanket, looking for comfort. I'd heard her pull open her door. I held her just for a few seconds. The words of Jesus about coming to him as little children became very real to me in that instant. We should drop our pre-conceived notions about who He is and what we are and just come to him.
I'd bet we'd be surprised at what we find.
Let's hope there are good surprises ahead in November.
Monday, September 15, 2008
RIP Rick Wright
I write this with tears in my eyes as I listen to "Keep Talking," one of the songs at least co-written by late Pink Floyd keyboardist Richard "Rick" Wright, who - according to media reports - passed away today of cancer at the age of 65.
Pink Floyd's - and his - contributions to the sonic landscape are immense and nearly immeasurable. They've left us with some really timeless work with apparently incredible amounts of forethought and loads of creativity.
I'm grateful for Mr. Wright's contributions to the band's success and pray for healing and comfort for his family and friends as they mourn his loss.
I'm also preparing myself for the fact that natural causes are starting catch up to those who've left an indelible mark on recorded music and we'll see more and more like Mr. Wright pass away in the coming years.
Friday, September 05, 2008
Ten years ago today
Blogger’s note: I’ve struggled for weeks whether to post this, but in the end, I believe it’s the right thing to do – for closure, healing and maybe, to help others. This is our story, and it is copyrighted to this blogger, with the obvious exception of the excerpt from Oswald Chambers.
Ten years ago today, my life changed in a way that will continue to impact me for as long as I live.
About 16 months before, it changed in a profound matter too in that I met my future wife on the Internet. I moved to Pennsylvania and we pursued our courtship. In late 1997, I asked Amanda to marry me.
The bed
In the weeks leading up to the early part of September 1998, my mother got hold of an old cast iron bed and called us up one day and asked us what color we wanted it. We told her, and she commenced to transforming it into a deep, forest green. It became a wedding present to us. She even paid for a mattress to fit it.
I asked her how we were supposed to get it from Montgomery, Ala. to metro Harrisburg, Pa.
She told me we were coming to Montgomery to retrieve it.
So Amanda and I arranged for a four-day weekend over the Labor Day holiday to drive down to Alabama and retrieve the bed, then drive back with it in time to return to work on the following Tuesday. In exchange, we were going to leave some furniture with her to store.
On the Tuesday before, I’d talked to her and had a good conversation. I don’t recall today what we talked about, but it was without turmoil or discord, for which I remain grateful.
Beginning two days later, I started calling Mom to have one final review of things before we headed down the highway.
I left answering machine messages for her to call me on a number of occasions. The fact she hadn’t followed up immediately wasn’t unusual, so it didn’t bother me in the first few hours after having not reached her.
For the first time in several weeks, I got to take some time and do a devotional in the morning before we left on the trip. I use Oswald Chambers’ “My Utmost for His Highest” on a regular basis.
The day was Sept. 4, and though I was probably reading an older version, here is the link to Sept. 4’s entry in the modern adaptation of the devotional book:
http://www.rbc.org/devotionals/my-utmost-for-his-highest/09/04/devotion.aspx?year=2008
In hindsight not long after, I realized this key sentence was one of preparation for what we would discover: “Our Lord makes His disciple His very own possession, becoming responsible for him.” Though for periods of time, out of rebellion and anger, I have not lived as if this is true, I’m reminded as I write this that it is absolute truth.
Though my life is not I as I would like it to be – said the pot to the potter – the Lord has blessed us immeasurably. Sometimes, we’ve responded that it wasn’t enough. Lord, please forgive me for my ingratitude.
You have been responsible for us, though we haven’t always been responsible in kind.
Help us to change this. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.
Departure
In the weeks leading up to our trip, we’d had some discussion back and forth with Mom about who should get wedding invitations and who should get announcements. Amanda decided the visit would be a good time to sort it out, so she took her wedding invitation database in a print-out so she and Mom could review it.
The keys
Not long before we walked out the door, I had a sense I would need the keys to the house. I was one of the few who had any.
I’m still trusting to this day it was the Lord.
So, I grabbed the chain which bore the keys to Mom’s house and we rolled down Interstate 81, still having hadn’t heard from her.
I carried my cell phone with me in hopes I could reach Mom from the road. We still hadn’t heard from her when we arrived at Amanda’s parents’ house in northeast Tennessee. They’d just moved there from Pennsylvania two weeks before.
So when we got to Amanda’s folks’ house, we called someone who was a family friend and who worked with Mom on a regular basis to see if he’d heard anything from her.
Nothing.
So our concern grew but we still didn’t have solid evidence anything was wrong.
Boy, it was nerve-racking.
We got up the next day and continued south on I-81. Over the course of our journey, we tried to call her again several times.
Still no response.
In about mid-afternoon, we reached one of the exits of Interstate 65 outside Clanton, Ala., about 45 minutes’ drive time north of Montgomery.
I went to a pay phone and tried home again.
This time, I sensed in my heart what we would find would not be good.
Keep in mind this would have been Amanda’s second time to see my Mom in person.
The house
It is no longer a secret, but for much of my life as a teenager, my mother required me to be selective about the friends I brought home and ask them not to tell about the condition of the house.
If there’s an actual name for what Mom did, I don’t know what it would be.
It wasn’t hoarding. It wasn’t out of greed. It wasn’t exactly the work of a Depression-era packrat. I still have no idea really why she did it.
But, beginning around 1978, she began to collect and stack newspapers and magazines around the house in piles. The piles grew over time and, one by one, rooms became useless because these stacks made them impassable and non-functional. These piles did not include household garbage, though she did hang on to canned or refrigerated foodstuffs for longer than necessary as well.
Sometimes, as an act of defiance, I would walk through portions of the house in a straight-forward fashion, instead of side-stepping so as to navigate the piles and or stacks of other things such as furniture.
However, this should not be my mother’s enduring legacy.
It should be the countless times she helped me out of a jam – with money, or a term paper, or math problems or … you almost name it and she was there to help.
The exception was … “Mom, how do you spell ________?”
The answer was often: “Look it up,” which I do almost on cue even today.
Mom’s willingness to help didn’t stop with me. I remember a time she helped out a friend of mine just because she wanted to and didn’t ask my friend for anything in return.
It must be pointed out that Mom had our bed ready and waiting on us.
She was robust, intelligent, funny, often witty, often undeterred, gutsy and just a great lady who also possessed a strong business sense.
Arrival
After getting into Montgomery, we made several stops to see if she might have been out and about doing some stuff. She wasn’t at any of those places.
With all possibilities on her location eliminated, we drove to the house.
I knew instantly something was wrong, because an orange recycling bag – left by city workers in exchange for a bag filled with recyclables – still hung from a tree branch.
It was Saturday.
We pulled up in front and exited the truck.
We dug my keys out of a bag.
We opened the mailbox and it was stuffed full.
Of course, I’d warned Amanda about what we would encounter when we entered the house.
No amount of preparation about the house would have given her needed insight for what she would soon face.
I opened the back door.
We entered.
Though I’d been in Pennsylvania for a year, I instinctively knew the paths I would follow to reach my mother’s bedroom.
I raced through the maze of stacks and stopped just inside the doorframe to her room.
I have no idea how long I looked at her – I’m sure it wasn’t more than 30 seconds.
But what I saw is still etched in my mind.
I did not see the often generous, active woman I described earlier.
She was gone.
What remained – at least what I saw – was a face containing a smattering of light and dark patches as it decayed.
What little I saw was enough. It still is.
We guess she’d been dead since sometime around Thursday.
This was Sept. 5, 1998, the official end of my mother’s life on Earth.
The death certificate says she died of an arteriosclerotic cardiovascular catastrophe, or a heart attack or stroke brought on by hardening of the arteries.
We found her 15 days shy of her 71st birthday.
Fortunately, word of the condition of the house didn’t become a news story, as others who lived in conditions outside the norm have. Fortunately, I am telling about this and not someone else.
I couldn’t remember the name of the funeral home where Mom made pre-arrangements, which, we found out later, she’d just paid off about six months earlier, but I did remember we would have to turn by the “black” cemetery, known at the time as such because of its condition and the race of its occupants.
Amanda grew up in an area where dead folks weren’t segregated and no such prefixes exist for places of burial.
This was Amanda’s first significant trip to the Deep South.
Welcome to Montgomery.
Our four-day weekend jaunt turned in to a week-long stay, which included funeral planning and preparation and a variety of interaction with friends and family.
Mom already had arranged for us to stay overnight at a bed and breakfast. We stayed there for the allotted time, then a friend’s house, then one more time at the B&B.
Instead of using it to clarify the wedding invitation list, the database print-out gave us the information needed to contact friends and relatives about Mom’s death.
Marrying and moving
Early on in that week, it was apparent we would need to move to Montgomery to deal with the aftermath of Mom’s death.
Our wedding was six weeks away.
We moved ahead with our already-arranged plans to marry and went on our honeymoon through Pennsylvania, upstate New York and Vermont.
We returned to what would have been the start of our new life together in Pennsylvania, only to pack up and haul our stuff to Alabama.
It took us about five and a half years to take care of a number of tasks associated with settling her affairs and going through her possessions.
We got to this end of it with the Lord’s help. Whether we’ve always acknowledged it or not, unfortunately, is a different story.
Our first year of marriage was quite the uphill climb – almost exclusively because of the challenge we had to tackle directly and with force.
Criminal activity compounded the situation beginning Christmas Eve 1998, when the first of seven break-ins took place at Mom’s house over the course of about two weeks.
Law enforcement officials got close to but never quite caught those responsible for unlawfully entering Mom’s house before we could (We’d made other living arrangements due the condition of the house.).
Ups and downs
There were some aspects of dealing with the house which were positive – mainly the response of some very kind and generous friends who volunteered their time, usually on weekends, to sort Mom’s belongings. A number of these people remain close friends.
Amanda’s parents also spent many days with us in the early going to help us get a grip on things.
We also struggled with infertility – a subject very few people are willing to broach because of its unsettling nature – while we were in Montgomery.
Eventually, we finished the tasks needed to move on with our lives and leave Montgomery.
We are certainly different people for having lived through those days in Montgomery. Whether we are better is up for the Lord to decide.
I look back, I see what’s missing is my Mom, who didn’t get to see her first grandchild come into the world, or send us articles on the best way to do this or that as a parent.
My Dad, who died of a heart attack nearly 15 years before Mom, isn’t here to offer some grain of wisdom or to hear me tell him how proud I am of him for his service as a soldier in the 84th Infantry Division during World War II.
He earned two Bronze Stars (They didn’t give them out for teaching classes back in his day.) in the months following D-Day and was wounded in action. He was also in the Army Specialized Training Program, which placed soldiers in colleges across the United States during WWII.
Dad was a bright, industrious man who held down a full-time job and maintained other business interests, including his role as the founding treasurer of a credit union. He expressed his concern for people in tangible ways, such as having refreshments ready at the end of the trail after a Boy Scouts’ hike.
He was a skilled woodworker and mechanic – he did much of the work on our vehicles.
When Mom died, so did my connection to Dad.
I wish they were both here.
But then we wouldn’t have gone through what we did, spent time with people we’d have never met or been given many other opportunities we’d have never had.
The Lord did his part. He’s been responsible in his care of us, having blessed us with a beautiful daughter, dashing our doubts about whether or not he actually listened or paid attention as we waited – sometimes impatiently – through our first painful bout with infertility.
We’re now learning to trust his hand in a new uncertainty as to whether we’ll have another child.
We have no idea what awaits us what the next 10 years, but I hope we will grow in our ability to listen to the Lord in new, finely-tuned ways.
I hope we’ll teach our child – or children – to do the same.
And, we still have the bed!
Ten years ago today, my life changed in a way that will continue to impact me for as long as I live.
About 16 months before, it changed in a profound matter too in that I met my future wife on the Internet. I moved to Pennsylvania and we pursued our courtship. In late 1997, I asked Amanda to marry me.
The bed
In the weeks leading up to the early part of September 1998, my mother got hold of an old cast iron bed and called us up one day and asked us what color we wanted it. We told her, and she commenced to transforming it into a deep, forest green. It became a wedding present to us. She even paid for a mattress to fit it.
I asked her how we were supposed to get it from Montgomery, Ala. to metro Harrisburg, Pa.
She told me we were coming to Montgomery to retrieve it.
So Amanda and I arranged for a four-day weekend over the Labor Day holiday to drive down to Alabama and retrieve the bed, then drive back with it in time to return to work on the following Tuesday. In exchange, we were going to leave some furniture with her to store.
On the Tuesday before, I’d talked to her and had a good conversation. I don’t recall today what we talked about, but it was without turmoil or discord, for which I remain grateful.
Beginning two days later, I started calling Mom to have one final review of things before we headed down the highway.
I left answering machine messages for her to call me on a number of occasions. The fact she hadn’t followed up immediately wasn’t unusual, so it didn’t bother me in the first few hours after having not reached her.
For the first time in several weeks, I got to take some time and do a devotional in the morning before we left on the trip. I use Oswald Chambers’ “My Utmost for His Highest” on a regular basis.
The day was Sept. 4, and though I was probably reading an older version, here is the link to Sept. 4’s entry in the modern adaptation of the devotional book:
http://www.rbc.org/devotionals/my-utmost-for-his-highest/09/04/devotion.aspx?year=2008
In hindsight not long after, I realized this key sentence was one of preparation for what we would discover: “Our Lord makes His disciple His very own possession, becoming responsible for him.” Though for periods of time, out of rebellion and anger, I have not lived as if this is true, I’m reminded as I write this that it is absolute truth.
Though my life is not I as I would like it to be – said the pot to the potter – the Lord has blessed us immeasurably. Sometimes, we’ve responded that it wasn’t enough. Lord, please forgive me for my ingratitude.
You have been responsible for us, though we haven’t always been responsible in kind.
Help us to change this. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.
Departure
In the weeks leading up to our trip, we’d had some discussion back and forth with Mom about who should get wedding invitations and who should get announcements. Amanda decided the visit would be a good time to sort it out, so she took her wedding invitation database in a print-out so she and Mom could review it.
The keys
Not long before we walked out the door, I had a sense I would need the keys to the house. I was one of the few who had any.
I’m still trusting to this day it was the Lord.
So, I grabbed the chain which bore the keys to Mom’s house and we rolled down Interstate 81, still having hadn’t heard from her.
I carried my cell phone with me in hopes I could reach Mom from the road. We still hadn’t heard from her when we arrived at Amanda’s parents’ house in northeast Tennessee. They’d just moved there from Pennsylvania two weeks before.
So when we got to Amanda’s folks’ house, we called someone who was a family friend and who worked with Mom on a regular basis to see if he’d heard anything from her.
Nothing.
So our concern grew but we still didn’t have solid evidence anything was wrong.
Boy, it was nerve-racking.
We got up the next day and continued south on I-81. Over the course of our journey, we tried to call her again several times.
Still no response.
In about mid-afternoon, we reached one of the exits of Interstate 65 outside Clanton, Ala., about 45 minutes’ drive time north of Montgomery.
I went to a pay phone and tried home again.
This time, I sensed in my heart what we would find would not be good.
Keep in mind this would have been Amanda’s second time to see my Mom in person.
The house
It is no longer a secret, but for much of my life as a teenager, my mother required me to be selective about the friends I brought home and ask them not to tell about the condition of the house.
If there’s an actual name for what Mom did, I don’t know what it would be.
It wasn’t hoarding. It wasn’t out of greed. It wasn’t exactly the work of a Depression-era packrat. I still have no idea really why she did it.
But, beginning around 1978, she began to collect and stack newspapers and magazines around the house in piles. The piles grew over time and, one by one, rooms became useless because these stacks made them impassable and non-functional. These piles did not include household garbage, though she did hang on to canned or refrigerated foodstuffs for longer than necessary as well.
Sometimes, as an act of defiance, I would walk through portions of the house in a straight-forward fashion, instead of side-stepping so as to navigate the piles and or stacks of other things such as furniture.
However, this should not be my mother’s enduring legacy.
It should be the countless times she helped me out of a jam – with money, or a term paper, or math problems or … you almost name it and she was there to help.
The exception was … “Mom, how do you spell ________?”
The answer was often: “Look it up,” which I do almost on cue even today.
Mom’s willingness to help didn’t stop with me. I remember a time she helped out a friend of mine just because she wanted to and didn’t ask my friend for anything in return.
It must be pointed out that Mom had our bed ready and waiting on us.
She was robust, intelligent, funny, often witty, often undeterred, gutsy and just a great lady who also possessed a strong business sense.
Arrival
After getting into Montgomery, we made several stops to see if she might have been out and about doing some stuff. She wasn’t at any of those places.
With all possibilities on her location eliminated, we drove to the house.
I knew instantly something was wrong, because an orange recycling bag – left by city workers in exchange for a bag filled with recyclables – still hung from a tree branch.
It was Saturday.
We pulled up in front and exited the truck.
We dug my keys out of a bag.
We opened the mailbox and it was stuffed full.
Of course, I’d warned Amanda about what we would encounter when we entered the house.
No amount of preparation about the house would have given her needed insight for what she would soon face.
I opened the back door.
We entered.
Though I’d been in Pennsylvania for a year, I instinctively knew the paths I would follow to reach my mother’s bedroom.
I raced through the maze of stacks and stopped just inside the doorframe to her room.
I have no idea how long I looked at her – I’m sure it wasn’t more than 30 seconds.
But what I saw is still etched in my mind.
I did not see the often generous, active woman I described earlier.
She was gone.
What remained – at least what I saw – was a face containing a smattering of light and dark patches as it decayed.
What little I saw was enough. It still is.
We guess she’d been dead since sometime around Thursday.
This was Sept. 5, 1998, the official end of my mother’s life on Earth.
The death certificate says she died of an arteriosclerotic cardiovascular catastrophe, or a heart attack or stroke brought on by hardening of the arteries.
We found her 15 days shy of her 71st birthday.
Fortunately, word of the condition of the house didn’t become a news story, as others who lived in conditions outside the norm have. Fortunately, I am telling about this and not someone else.
I couldn’t remember the name of the funeral home where Mom made pre-arrangements, which, we found out later, she’d just paid off about six months earlier, but I did remember we would have to turn by the “black” cemetery, known at the time as such because of its condition and the race of its occupants.
Amanda grew up in an area where dead folks weren’t segregated and no such prefixes exist for places of burial.
This was Amanda’s first significant trip to the Deep South.
Welcome to Montgomery.
Our four-day weekend jaunt turned in to a week-long stay, which included funeral planning and preparation and a variety of interaction with friends and family.
Mom already had arranged for us to stay overnight at a bed and breakfast. We stayed there for the allotted time, then a friend’s house, then one more time at the B&B.
Instead of using it to clarify the wedding invitation list, the database print-out gave us the information needed to contact friends and relatives about Mom’s death.
Marrying and moving
Early on in that week, it was apparent we would need to move to Montgomery to deal with the aftermath of Mom’s death.
Our wedding was six weeks away.
We moved ahead with our already-arranged plans to marry and went on our honeymoon through Pennsylvania, upstate New York and Vermont.
We returned to what would have been the start of our new life together in Pennsylvania, only to pack up and haul our stuff to Alabama.
It took us about five and a half years to take care of a number of tasks associated with settling her affairs and going through her possessions.
We got to this end of it with the Lord’s help. Whether we’ve always acknowledged it or not, unfortunately, is a different story.
Our first year of marriage was quite the uphill climb – almost exclusively because of the challenge we had to tackle directly and with force.
Criminal activity compounded the situation beginning Christmas Eve 1998, when the first of seven break-ins took place at Mom’s house over the course of about two weeks.
Law enforcement officials got close to but never quite caught those responsible for unlawfully entering Mom’s house before we could (We’d made other living arrangements due the condition of the house.).
Ups and downs
There were some aspects of dealing with the house which were positive – mainly the response of some very kind and generous friends who volunteered their time, usually on weekends, to sort Mom’s belongings. A number of these people remain close friends.
Amanda’s parents also spent many days with us in the early going to help us get a grip on things.
We also struggled with infertility – a subject very few people are willing to broach because of its unsettling nature – while we were in Montgomery.
Eventually, we finished the tasks needed to move on with our lives and leave Montgomery.
We are certainly different people for having lived through those days in Montgomery. Whether we are better is up for the Lord to decide.
I look back, I see what’s missing is my Mom, who didn’t get to see her first grandchild come into the world, or send us articles on the best way to do this or that as a parent.
My Dad, who died of a heart attack nearly 15 years before Mom, isn’t here to offer some grain of wisdom or to hear me tell him how proud I am of him for his service as a soldier in the 84th Infantry Division during World War II.
He earned two Bronze Stars (They didn’t give them out for teaching classes back in his day.) in the months following D-Day and was wounded in action. He was also in the Army Specialized Training Program, which placed soldiers in colleges across the United States during WWII.
Dad was a bright, industrious man who held down a full-time job and maintained other business interests, including his role as the founding treasurer of a credit union. He expressed his concern for people in tangible ways, such as having refreshments ready at the end of the trail after a Boy Scouts’ hike.
He was a skilled woodworker and mechanic – he did much of the work on our vehicles.
When Mom died, so did my connection to Dad.
I wish they were both here.
But then we wouldn’t have gone through what we did, spent time with people we’d have never met or been given many other opportunities we’d have never had.
The Lord did his part. He’s been responsible in his care of us, having blessed us with a beautiful daughter, dashing our doubts about whether or not he actually listened or paid attention as we waited – sometimes impatiently – through our first painful bout with infertility.
We’re now learning to trust his hand in a new uncertainty as to whether we’ll have another child.
We have no idea what awaits us what the next 10 years, but I hope we will grow in our ability to listen to the Lord in new, finely-tuned ways.
I hope we’ll teach our child – or children – to do the same.
And, we still have the bed!
Friday, August 29, 2008
NOW we have a title fight!
I've been an amateur political observer for much of my life - probably since about 1976, the first time I can remember hearing the name of a national candidate (Bob Dole's) on the radio. I was about 8 or 9.
Watching politics is one of my favorite pastimes.
I cannot recall in any time since I've studied politics where we've had a presidential match-up like the one we have now in circumstances like these.
The late Tim Russert pointed out before his untimely passing that this election is the first in many decades which didn't feature a sitting president or vice president on either major party ticket.
That, in and of itself, is historic.
But wait, there's more.
The run-up to the Democratic Party nomination featured a bare-knuckled contest between a woman - New York Sen. Hillary Clinton - and the nation's first strong black candidate - Illinois Sen. Barack Obama. This was the first battle of its kind for a major party nomination in terms of gender and race both playing major roles.
For weeks, Obama and Clinton fought for every vote and every delegate until Clinton eventually conceded. This week, she formally backed Obama for the party's nod. Thursday night, Barack Obama, 47, accepted that nomination on the anniversary of Dr. Martin Luther King's "I Have A Dream" speech. Several days earlier, he'd announced Delaware Sen. Joe Biden, 65, would be his vice presidential nominee.
Less than 24 hours later, a history-making event happened again.
Republican nominee-in-waiting, Arizona Sen. John McCain, who turned 72 today, introduced Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin - at 44, she is 28 years McCain's junior - as his running mate. She's the first woman to run on the GOP presidential ticket and only the second woman in history to run for vice president (Geraldine Ferraro holds that distinction).
Here is our fight card for the presidency in 2008:
In this corner, we have a stylish idealist - whose desire to see change was likely forged as he helped those in need - but who doesn't have a lot of political experience, especially in the arena of foreign policy. Enter his running mate, a seasoned senator with a wealth of political know-how in all the right areas and whose roots in scrappy Scranton, Pa. and personal losses helped shape him into a strong leader.
In the opposite corner, we have one of the nation's enduring war heroes who, by reputation, has attempted to reform Washington from the inside and whose foreign policy experience includes a stay in the Hanoi Hilton. Today, he introduced us to a woman - who from first impressions - sounds like the second coming of Teddy Roosevelt in terms of toughness and competitiveness - this time in high heels and sometimes hiking boots and running shoes - with the compassion of Mother Teresa.
This is going to be one interesting, fascinating election. We've probably not seen one like it in most of our lifetimes and I'm sorry Russert and late political observer Tony Snow aren't here to enjoy it with us.
As the voting public, let's break the turnout at the polls.
I assume, unfortunately, that the tactics will get dirty. Name-calling, race-baiting and gender-baiting may be all part of the discourse over the next 67 days.
But, other than that, let's hope they play this fairly.
This fight card is interesting enough - let's keep the cigarettes, cash and booze at home and let voters be motivated on their own to cast their ballots.
Besides the contenders themselves, I don't know what else besides an ailing economy, a need for a clear direction for our fight against terrorism and a national desire to see a break from the dependence on oil could draw out at least 75 percent of our nation's registered voters.
Maybe they can add some midgets or have a debate or two at Wing Night down at the local watering hole.
Watching politics is one of my favorite pastimes.
I cannot recall in any time since I've studied politics where we've had a presidential match-up like the one we have now in circumstances like these.
The late Tim Russert pointed out before his untimely passing that this election is the first in many decades which didn't feature a sitting president or vice president on either major party ticket.
That, in and of itself, is historic.
But wait, there's more.
The run-up to the Democratic Party nomination featured a bare-knuckled contest between a woman - New York Sen. Hillary Clinton - and the nation's first strong black candidate - Illinois Sen. Barack Obama. This was the first battle of its kind for a major party nomination in terms of gender and race both playing major roles.
For weeks, Obama and Clinton fought for every vote and every delegate until Clinton eventually conceded. This week, she formally backed Obama for the party's nod. Thursday night, Barack Obama, 47, accepted that nomination on the anniversary of Dr. Martin Luther King's "I Have A Dream" speech. Several days earlier, he'd announced Delaware Sen. Joe Biden, 65, would be his vice presidential nominee.
Less than 24 hours later, a history-making event happened again.
Republican nominee-in-waiting, Arizona Sen. John McCain, who turned 72 today, introduced Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin - at 44, she is 28 years McCain's junior - as his running mate. She's the first woman to run on the GOP presidential ticket and only the second woman in history to run for vice president (Geraldine Ferraro holds that distinction).
Here is our fight card for the presidency in 2008:
In this corner, we have a stylish idealist - whose desire to see change was likely forged as he helped those in need - but who doesn't have a lot of political experience, especially in the arena of foreign policy. Enter his running mate, a seasoned senator with a wealth of political know-how in all the right areas and whose roots in scrappy Scranton, Pa. and personal losses helped shape him into a strong leader.
In the opposite corner, we have one of the nation's enduring war heroes who, by reputation, has attempted to reform Washington from the inside and whose foreign policy experience includes a stay in the Hanoi Hilton. Today, he introduced us to a woman - who from first impressions - sounds like the second coming of Teddy Roosevelt in terms of toughness and competitiveness - this time in high heels and sometimes hiking boots and running shoes - with the compassion of Mother Teresa.
This is going to be one interesting, fascinating election. We've probably not seen one like it in most of our lifetimes and I'm sorry Russert and late political observer Tony Snow aren't here to enjoy it with us.
As the voting public, let's break the turnout at the polls.
I assume, unfortunately, that the tactics will get dirty. Name-calling, race-baiting and gender-baiting may be all part of the discourse over the next 67 days.
But, other than that, let's hope they play this fairly.
This fight card is interesting enough - let's keep the cigarettes, cash and booze at home and let voters be motivated on their own to cast their ballots.
Besides the contenders themselves, I don't know what else besides an ailing economy, a need for a clear direction for our fight against terrorism and a national desire to see a break from the dependence on oil could draw out at least 75 percent of our nation's registered voters.
Maybe they can add some midgets or have a debate or two at Wing Night down at the local watering hole.
Long time no post
Hey everyone!
We've been busy and fighting summer colds, so I haven't had a chance to post lately.
Plus, I'm struggling with an idea for a post and I'm not sure how I'm going to handle it. Prayers for wisdom and discernment will be greatly appreciated. Whatever I come up with, it will be posted on Sept. 5, so keep an eye out for it.
In the mean time, I was scrolling through some Rush stuff on the MP3 player on the way back from dropping off Jadyn from daycare and got another listen to "Vital Signs," the last track on what I consider their masterpiece album, "Moving Pictures."
Obviously, the lyrics and music are not mine so they belong to Neil Peart, Alex Lifeson and Geddy Lee. But "Vital Signs" contains some of Neil's best lyrical work. Have a read (after this rambling missive) and have a great Labor Day weekend.
For our friends on the Coast, we're praying for you and will do whatever we can to help you guys recover from whatever ol' Gustav dishes out.
Speaking of Gustav, I've got to go cut the grass before he gets here. So I'm off. Later, and please look out for that post on Sept. 5 (Lord willing!)!
Vital Signs by Rush
Unstable condition:
A symptom of life
In mental,
And environmental
Change
Atmospheric disturbance--
The feverish flux
Of human interface
And interchange
The impulse is pure--
Sometimes our circuits get shorted,
By external interference
Signals get crossed--
And the balance distorted
By internal incoherence
A tired mind become a shape-shifter
Everybody need a mood lifter
Everybody need reverse polarity
Everybody got mixed feelings
About the function and the form
Everybody got to deviate
From the norm
An ounce of perception,
A pound of obscure.
Process information at half speed.
Pause, rewind, replay,
Warm memory chip,
Random sample, hold the one you need.
Leave out the fiction--
The fact is;
This friction
Will only be worn by persistence
Leave out conditions--
Courageous convictions
Will drag the dream into existence
A tired mind become a shape-shifter
Everybody need a soft filter
Everybody need reverse polarity
Everybody got mixed feelings
About the function and the form
Everybody got to elevate
From the norm
We've been busy and fighting summer colds, so I haven't had a chance to post lately.
Plus, I'm struggling with an idea for a post and I'm not sure how I'm going to handle it. Prayers for wisdom and discernment will be greatly appreciated. Whatever I come up with, it will be posted on Sept. 5, so keep an eye out for it.
In the mean time, I was scrolling through some Rush stuff on the MP3 player on the way back from dropping off Jadyn from daycare and got another listen to "Vital Signs," the last track on what I consider their masterpiece album, "Moving Pictures."
Obviously, the lyrics and music are not mine so they belong to Neil Peart, Alex Lifeson and Geddy Lee. But "Vital Signs" contains some of Neil's best lyrical work. Have a read (after this rambling missive) and have a great Labor Day weekend.
For our friends on the Coast, we're praying for you and will do whatever we can to help you guys recover from whatever ol' Gustav dishes out.
Speaking of Gustav, I've got to go cut the grass before he gets here. So I'm off. Later, and please look out for that post on Sept. 5 (Lord willing!)!
Vital Signs by Rush
Unstable condition:
A symptom of life
In mental,
And environmental
Change
Atmospheric disturbance--
The feverish flux
Of human interface
And interchange
The impulse is pure--
Sometimes our circuits get shorted,
By external interference
Signals get crossed--
And the balance distorted
By internal incoherence
A tired mind become a shape-shifter
Everybody need a mood lifter
Everybody need reverse polarity
Everybody got mixed feelings
About the function and the form
Everybody got to deviate
From the norm
An ounce of perception,
A pound of obscure.
Process information at half speed.
Pause, rewind, replay,
Warm memory chip,
Random sample, hold the one you need.
Leave out the fiction--
The fact is;
This friction
Will only be worn by persistence
Leave out conditions--
Courageous convictions
Will drag the dream into existence
A tired mind become a shape-shifter
Everybody need a soft filter
Everybody need reverse polarity
Everybody got mixed feelings
About the function and the form
Everybody got to elevate
From the norm
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Let truth be our guide
Depending on who you believe, Barack Obama is either the best thing to happen to American politics since John F. Kennedy, an alleged racist, Muslim sympathizer, an attention-hungry candidate who doesn't give a rip about our troops and - at the broadest extreme - the Antichrist.
Somewhere between these extremes presented to us about Obama lies the truth.
I hope in a few days to begin my own comparisons of factual information about the major presidential candidates - Obama and Republican John McCain. Therefore, I am not advocating or lobbying for either candidate.
What I do advocate is that our voting public make wise, informed decisions at the polls, not selections based strictly on fear and gross misinformation or outright falsehood.
I've taken a few minutes to look up a few Web sites which address all these assumptions about Obama.
The first is this answer about him being the next JFK. Doesn't sound exactly like our 35th president, does he?
The second is about an e-mail I received at home about Obama being an alleged black racist whose true allegiances lie with Muslims. The statements this e-mail is based upon are - at minimum - taken wildly out of context. Here is an analysis from snopes.com. Please take the time to read through it.
The next one is about an e-mail I got at work purportedly from a captain in Afghanistan who says Obama blew off troops lined up to meet him to get to a photo-op. Snopes.com has detailed information - even photos - to show the contrary and says that the original sender has asked people to delete his original e-mail because it contained what he now knows to be false information.
Now, for the last one - another snopes.com post about Obama and whether he could be the Antichrist. There is no information available to suggest this is even remotely true.
When we go to the polls in November, let's let truth and (as much as possible) geninue conviction guide us - not fear. And let's all check to make sure e-mails we forward to people are - as much as possible - truthful and accurate.
Somewhere between these extremes presented to us about Obama lies the truth.
I hope in a few days to begin my own comparisons of factual information about the major presidential candidates - Obama and Republican John McCain. Therefore, I am not advocating or lobbying for either candidate.
What I do advocate is that our voting public make wise, informed decisions at the polls, not selections based strictly on fear and gross misinformation or outright falsehood.
I've taken a few minutes to look up a few Web sites which address all these assumptions about Obama.
The first is this answer about him being the next JFK. Doesn't sound exactly like our 35th president, does he?
The second is about an e-mail I received at home about Obama being an alleged black racist whose true allegiances lie with Muslims. The statements this e-mail is based upon are - at minimum - taken wildly out of context. Here is an analysis from snopes.com. Please take the time to read through it.
The next one is about an e-mail I got at work purportedly from a captain in Afghanistan who says Obama blew off troops lined up to meet him to get to a photo-op. Snopes.com has detailed information - even photos - to show the contrary and says that the original sender has asked people to delete his original e-mail because it contained what he now knows to be false information.
Now, for the last one - another snopes.com post about Obama and whether he could be the Antichrist. There is no information available to suggest this is even remotely true.
When we go to the polls in November, let's let truth and (as much as possible) geninue conviction guide us - not fear. And let's all check to make sure e-mails we forward to people are - as much as possible - truthful and accurate.
Monday, July 14, 2008
The Maximum Vacation, Part IX
Day 8 – evening
Here, Jadyn sports a set of sunglasses Mommy got her during our whirlwind shopping trip in the humongous
Day 9
We got up, packed up and directed our car toward our first stop of the trip – our friends’ house – to drop off a borrowed item and wave one last time goodbye.
We checked out a few of the places of importance to Amanda and her side of the family in the area she grew up in, then pulled out the directions for the car rental office at the Philadelphia airport.
We turned in our car, got inside the airport and did all the necessary check-in stuff. We got aboard the plane with the plan of getting to
This plan didn’t materialize.
Our plane started to taxi out, but the air crew realized that a panel was open on the aircraft. So, we went back to the gate to have it shut. Then, several passengers wanted to get off the aircraft because they knew they would miss their connections in
While we waited on them to decide what they wanted to do, we burned fuel, so we had to get more gas.
What started out as a planned two-hour flight to
We didn’t make it home the night of Day 9 like we’d hoped we would. Instead we stayed in a hotel – paid for, of course, by the airline responsible for the delay.
Day 10
We made it back to the
Our delay gave us an opportunity to interact with people we wouldn’t have gotten to know better otherwise, including a person we initially met in
We got home with about 90 minutes to spare before Amanda went to a previously scheduled event and have been pretty much on the go since.
Epilogue
Our journey into the
Other times, they come into being by reconnection, taking extended amounts of time simply to sit and chat in a day and age when time seems impossible to find.
Spending quality time with friends and family is no waste of time.
Neither is extending a hand of friendship and support to a stranger you wind up stuck with on a layover at a hotel.
All of these things come by making a choice – and we’re glad we chose to take the Maximum Vacation of 2008.
The Maximum Vacation, Part VIII
Day 8 – morning
With all of us working on varying amounts of limited sleep, we got up to go to Dutch Wonderland, a theme park in walking distance from our hotel.
This was Jadyn’s first amusement park experience, and overall, she had a blast.
The smile says it all.
The good ol' carousel worked fine. However ...
Jadyn wanted to see someone who passed by while we were on the ride, and once we were off, she literally ran down Duke the dragon to meet him.
Right after lunch, I went back to the hotel for a nap, while Amanda and Jadyn hung out with a college friend of Amanda’s and her daughter and stayed until about mid-afternoon.
I’ll save the roundup for the evening on the next – and final – blog about the Maximum Vacation.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
The Maximum Vacation, Part VII
Day 7 - afternoon and evening
After lunch, we made our way east on the Pennsylvania Turnpike to Route (U.S. Highway) 522, where our trip took a mostly northern heading toward the first day of the 30th annual Creation Music Festival just south of Mt. Union, Pa.
Though we hadn’t placed this stop on our original itinerary, we thought it would be a good addition, both to spend time with our first-stop hosts and experience something we wouldn’t often get a chance to do. Plus, Amanda has fond memories of previous visits to the festival and got a chance to make some new ones.
We made our way through the entrance and to the parking area, then met up with our hosts.
We heard a speaker, ate some great festival food and saw several musical acts, including the David Crowder Band.
Jadyn figured out not long into our stop how to relax.
She also accurately determined the conditions we faced were quite warm, so she drank water.
This is mostly likely the biggest crowd Jadyn’s ever been in before, but she took to it very well.
She danced and had a good time ...
and so did we. We’re very grateful our hosts graciously allowed us to join them.
We continued on our original path toward the
We got into
Saturday, July 12, 2008
The Maximum Vacation, Part VI
Day 7 - morning and early afternoon
We rolled out reasonably early from our hotel in
We essentially took the path we followed in to Parkersburg on Day 3 in reverse until we got to the Route (U.S. Highway) 219 North exit off Interstate 68 in Maryland, then made our way back into the Keystone State.
Here is a farmhouse along the way.
This is a sight we don’t see much of in the South – power-generating windmills.
We eventually found our way to the memorial, which is loaded with items left behind by visitors. Here are two photos illustrating the variety of things people decide to leave.
Amanda listened to the National Parks Service person as she told the basic story about Flight 93 – one of four aircraft hijacked on
On this flight, people found out about the 
Officials believe the hijackers intended to fly the aircraft directly into either the White House or the nation’s Capitol. In other words, the steps the counter-attackers took prevented an already tragic day from getting much, much worse. To call them “heroes” is the right thing to do and so is honoring their sacrifices.
Amanda and I decided without speaking to each other that we needed to leave something behind.
Amanda wrote a message on the hat.
Then, Jadyn and I placed my favorite baseball cap on a little spot on the fence which makes up part of the temporary memorial.
May we long remember what the passengers and crew of Flight 93 did for our nation and its people.
After about a 45-50 minute stay at the memorial, we loaded back up, ate lunch in nearby
Friday, July 11, 2008
The Maximum Vacation, Part V
Day 6
We'd already planned this day as a low-key one, with a stop with Jadyn specifically in mind.
In the morning, we went back into Marietta, this time to visit the city's Aquatic Center, which is basically a miniature water theme park. It's an excellent, affordable facility and a perfect thing for a child like Jadyn, who loves to play in the water.
After toweling off a bit, we went back to the hotel for another afternoon nap. Then we went to dinner with a cousin and later, took one last trip through Grand Central Mall, buying a few interesting items and letting Jadyn burn off a little steam.
As we began to pack and prepare to leave the Marietta-Parkersburg area, we wondered whether we could manage what we'd planned for Day 7. So, we gave ourselves several options and decided we would see which one could play out the next morning.
I anticipate two posts out of Day 7, if that tells you anything! I expect they'll be along within the next few days.
We'd already planned this day as a low-key one, with a stop with Jadyn specifically in mind.
In the morning, we went back into Marietta, this time to visit the city's Aquatic Center, which is basically a miniature water theme park. It's an excellent, affordable facility and a perfect thing for a child like Jadyn, who loves to play in the water.
After toweling off a bit, we went back to the hotel for another afternoon nap. Then we went to dinner with a cousin and later, took one last trip through Grand Central Mall, buying a few interesting items and letting Jadyn burn off a little steam.
As we began to pack and prepare to leave the Marietta-Parkersburg area, we wondered whether we could manage what we'd planned for Day 7. So, we gave ourselves several options and decided we would see which one could play out the next morning.I anticipate two posts out of Day 7, if that tells you anything! I expect they'll be along within the next few days.
The Maximum Vacation, Part IV
Day 5
I'd been to Marietta, Ohio three times in my life previously - sometime between 1977 and '79, December 1984 and May 1990. This was Amanda and Jadyn's first trip.
It is one of the ancestral points of origin on my mother's side of the family.
As we headed north out of Parkersburg on Interstate 77 into Ohio, a moderately thick blanket of fog obscured our view of the mighty Ohio River.
We made our way to Old Town Bakery, a relatively new addition to downtown Marietta. One of my cousins owns and operates it and it was our designated rendezvous point with my other cousin. (The photo in the link is from a person by the name of Bob Church who posted the link at this site.)
We met up with my cousin, got some very good breakfast, then took a driving tour of Marietta with my cousin at the wheel.
She took us up to an overlook, where the fog began to peel back and let the daylight shine.
Here are a couple of other pictures taken at the overlook.
My cousin drove us back down off the bluff and then on to other parts of the area, including segments of the heart of Marietta.
The image I take away from this most recent visit to Marietta is that it's a city that's proud of and rooted in its history yet it keeps its mind on the present and future. I see it as a progressive community with a bike and walking trail tied into downtown and recreation areas on the north side of town and a former covered - and later railroad - bridge reverted to pedestrian traffic about 46 years ago.
We strolled across this bridge to explore another side of town and take a look out on the point where the Muskingum and Ohio rivers merge.
Community members adorned the bridge with hanging baskets of flowers, adding a very nice touch to an already scenic path.
We discovered a cluster of various shops on the west side of the river, including this antique store with a clever name:
We went back to the hotel in Parkersburg - about a 20-minute drive - to give Jadyn a chance to nap before a gathering back at my cousin's house on the outskirts of Marietta later in the afternoon.
We enjoyed a great meal and some warm and genuine interaction with our relatives - I just don't think it could have gone better. Jadyn mostly just played in the dirt and hung out with cousins closer to her age.
By this day, neither Amanda nor I contracted pinkeye, and we truly enjoyed our time reconnecting with this segment of our broader network of kin.
By the end of Day 5, our senses of uncertainty on Day 3 gave way to a mixture of feelings belonging, connection and satisfaction. In other words, we had a great time!
We have five more days to recap, so please hang on as I get the blogs together!
I'd been to Marietta, Ohio three times in my life previously - sometime between 1977 and '79, December 1984 and May 1990. This was Amanda and Jadyn's first trip.
It is one of the ancestral points of origin on my mother's side of the family.
As we headed north out of Parkersburg on Interstate 77 into Ohio, a moderately thick blanket of fog obscured our view of the mighty Ohio River.
We made our way to Old Town Bakery, a relatively new addition to downtown Marietta. One of my cousins owns and operates it and it was our designated rendezvous point with my other cousin. (The photo in the link is from a person by the name of Bob Church who posted the link at this site.)
We met up with my cousin, got some very good breakfast, then took a driving tour of Marietta with my cousin at the wheel.
She took us up to an overlook, where the fog began to peel back and let the daylight shine.
Here are a couple of other pictures taken at the overlook.
My cousin drove us back down off the bluff and then on to other parts of the area, including segments of the heart of Marietta.
The image I take away from this most recent visit to Marietta is that it's a city that's proud of and rooted in its history yet it keeps its mind on the present and future. I see it as a progressive community with a bike and walking trail tied into downtown and recreation areas on the north side of town and a former covered - and later railroad - bridge reverted to pedestrian traffic about 46 years ago.
We strolled across this bridge to explore another side of town and take a look out on the point where the Muskingum and Ohio rivers merge.
Community members adorned the bridge with hanging baskets of flowers, adding a very nice touch to an already scenic path.
We discovered a cluster of various shops on the west side of the river, including this antique store with a clever name:
We went back to the hotel in Parkersburg - about a 20-minute drive - to give Jadyn a chance to nap before a gathering back at my cousin's house on the outskirts of Marietta later in the afternoon.
We enjoyed a great meal and some warm and genuine interaction with our relatives - I just don't think it could have gone better. Jadyn mostly just played in the dirt and hung out with cousins closer to her age.
By this day, neither Amanda nor I contracted pinkeye, and we truly enjoyed our time reconnecting with this segment of our broader network of kin.
By the end of Day 5, our senses of uncertainty on Day 3 gave way to a mixture of feelings belonging, connection and satisfaction. In other words, we had a great time!
We have five more days to recap, so please hang on as I get the blogs together!
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