Wife Swapping

I watched a show on television last night that still haunts me.
I don't remember its name - probably for the best.
The premise is this:
A wife and mother swaps places with another wife and mother
for two weeks.
They move into the other woman's home,
fit in with the family for one week,
and then change the rules for the second week.

One woman was from the Midwest.
She was warm and likeable and hefty in appearance.
She, her husband and four sons live in the country
outside a small town with only 550 people.
They eat fast food,
drive ATVs
and love playing paintball.
They hope their oldest son will win a paintball scholarship
to go to college.
They are flag waving, proud Americans.

The other woman lives in San Francisco
with her husband and two children.
They spend $40,000 annually on private schools,
eat organic
care about the environment
and are physically fit.
The husband is a naturalized citizen from Britain,
more rude and arrogant than anyone I have ever seen,
even in the movies.

Both women were on target with their observations.
The Midwest family needed better health habits,
exposure to some culture (she took them to a college French lesson),
and more helping out around the house.

The San Francisco family needed more time with their children,
and the children needed a sense of play.
Their lives were structured and regimented
with little time for fun or enjoying one another.

Change was not easy for either family.
It was impossible for the San Francisco crowd.
The father in that fashionable home was/is HORRIBLE!
I have never seen such cruelty, rudeness, arrogance and sick behavior.
The Midwest mother was a kind and gentle soul,
and I pray the scars she received from that man will not last.

Although religion was never mentioned,
the San Francisco guy shows us what life looks like without God -
self-centered, judgmental, closed minded to the nth degree.
His abuse was painful to watch.
It still upsets me.

I was treated that way once.
I guess that's why the show bothered me.
It struck a little too close to home.
Maybe that's why I have such a heart for outcasts,
for people who are downtrodden
and can't quite find the American dream.

Matthew Linn says that if we can allow ourselves to be loved by God
in the place of our deepest wound,
that place will become the foundation of a ministry.
I think it's true in my case.
I pray for that arrogant, obnoxious man today
and pray protection for his wife and children.
Somehow, may the light of Christ find him
and soften that petrified, stony heart.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Buttons

I found this movie curious indeed
and more than a little long.
In fact I napped briefly and missed a slice of it in the middle somewhere.
This morning I was startled to discover its nomination
for an Academy Award -
best picture of the year!!
Did I miss something?

So I've been thinking.
My opinion has been colored by a review that gave it only two and a half stars.
That's less than nearly everything.
So what is this little film trying to say?
I had to think a little deeper and to investigate.

Seems it was written by the same guy who wrote Forrest Gump.
Gump was an outsider who sort of meandered through life
dispensing wisdom
and being generally a good and kind person.
Benjamin has those characteristics.
He had every right to be bitter.
After all his mother died in childbirth.
He was discarded by his father as a freak.
He grew up in an old folks home,
and old people are the ultimate outcasts in American society.

The wisdom of those old folks nourished him
and he wasn't a freak there.
He listened.
He was considerate.
He did the right thing.
There was nothing evil or particularly sinful in him.
Even his forays into bordellos were naive and innocent.
He traveled the world,
had a little money
and was generally filled with wonder.
Along the way he dispensed wisdom.

He shows us that everyone is created in the image of God
and worthy of care,
even when their appearance is bizarre.
He made the most out of life,
accepted it as a gift
with gratitude
and an open heart.

May it be so with us, Lord.
May it be so.

Indian Giver

I'm taking a little e-course on World Religions -
not seeking to convert but to strengthen my own faith.
Two days ago there was a snippet that has stayed with me.
It is this.
Native Americans believe every object has a purpose,
every figurine
or book
or towel
or blanket
or anything.
Every thing was designed for a special purpose in life.
If one has a blanket,
it is designed to be used.
If one has six blankets,
one must use all of them.
If someone gives you a blanket and sees that you are using blankets
but not the one he or she gave you,
then you have too many.
The giver can take it away from you.

This has started me thinking
as I look around my cluttered house.
I have thousands of books,
some of them from college forty years ago.
There are dishes and crystal and silver
languishing away in cabinets
that I have not used in twenty years.

And my closet - O my!

How many things do I own that no longer give me pleasure
and lay hidden away?
I've never seen this as a sin.
Perhaps it is.

Perhaps God is calling me to bless the world
by allowing my hidden and forsaken things to fulfill their purpose.
I have new resolve
to clear last year's clutter from the surfaces in my home.
Resolve isn't always enough for me.
May this new year's resolve translate into action
one baby step at a time.

Does anyone need anything?

Charlie Robinson

Charlie Robinson died this week.
He was a prince of a man,
and his death impacted me profoundly for some reason.
I cried and cried and cried
even though I knew his passing was merciful.
He's been lingering and wasting away for years,
the result of strokes that ravaged his body
and left him paralyzed, unable to speak except through a tube.
His wife Bobbie Sue tended him carefully,
loving him,
caring for him,
advocating for him to the end.
It was a lifetime of faithful love.

We last saw Charlie in October.
Forrest and I stopped in for a visit,
and it was as though we had entered another world.
There was peace in that room and joy.
Sunshine flooded the place
and the graciousness that was Charlie Robinson
spilled over into our hearts.

Some people radiate the Christian faith better than others.
He was able to do that
despite all manner of adversity.
There was a sweetness to him
and a gentleness
that warmed my heart.

In his earlier days he was an entrepreneur of world class status,
taking nothing and making it into something fabulous.
He did that with a little mailbox store in a strip shopping center.
Before anyone knew it, it was the biggest in the world,
UPS 4th largest customer in the entire United States.
Forrest and I went with him and Bobbie Sue to California once
where Charlie won every award that was to be given.
There was not enough wall space on which to hang all his awards.

He did it with grace and a smile and a tenacity that was astounding.
When one door closed, he found another one, and then another one.
The man never gave up.

In his heart of hearts he loved God.
He loved Bobbie Sue and cried whenever he spoke of her
or his beloved West Point.
and he was so very proud of his children and grandchildren.

The world will not soon see another man like Charlie Robinson,
elder emeritus in the very best sense of the word,
entrepreneur,
husband and father,
a devoted friend who would never abandon us nor let us go.

It makes me cry to think of saying farewell to Charlie.
He's been a pillar of faith to me in so many ways,
and I have loved him and Bobbie Sue fiercely.
May the angels of heaven rejoice at his coming,
and prepare a place for him in a lovely mansion.
How blessed they will be to know him.
How blessed I am to have been his friend.
Farewell, Charlie, I'll be along before long.

New Year's Miracle

We've had a harrowing six weeks or so with Forrest's kidney stone.
Twice he entered the hospital to have it removed
and both times it was postponed.
For weeks he's been toting powerful pain pills around in his pocket,
necessary if the 6 mm stone tried to exit his body.
Wednesday he tried again to have it removed.
We went down there
he on an empty stomach
no coffee nor anything by mouth after midnight.
He changed into a hospital gown and lay on the bed.
They took him for xrays, then brought him back again.
A nurse put an IV in his arm
and all those things they paste to your chest that monitor your heart.
Finally they gave him a hair net type hat.
He was ready to roll,
but then they paused.
The technician said he needed to talk to the doctor.
When Dr. Mineo came in, he too looked at the xrays.
There was no sign of the giant kidney stone.
It just disappeared, went missing.
Maybe it's hiding somewhere, but we doubt it.
No need to blast something you cannot see.

They puzzled over it, then sent him home.
Happy New Year!
I'm calling it a miracle, a new year's miracle,
an omen I think of good things to come in this new year.

We took the news matter of factly
then went to eat Mexican food at Ninfa's.
In joy and in sorrow Forrest and I eat Mexican food.
This time we gave thanks to God and celebrated with saccharine sweetened iced tea.