Category: Uncategorized (Page 13 of 26)

I have said, “I don’t like change.” I might as well have said, “I don’t like to breathe.” It amounts to the same. Change is happening as I write this. It will continue. You know it must; it is essential to life. In our bodies, our families, our contexture, our world, the Universe—change is immutable. I think resistance to change derives from our human proclivity toward comfort.

Usually, when I resist change it tends to be one over which I have little or no control. When I choose a change, I expect some, or much discomfort, uncertainty—at least some puzzlement; I accept the unknowing because I want, or hope for a desired result. While learning to ride a bicycle (a change from walking) I got cuts, scrapes, and bumps—just short of broken bones. But the freedom and speed I desired eclipsed my fears—and scars.

One of the memorable changes in my past was leaving the tiny rural Deepstep elementary school and mounting the bus for high school in town. There were more people in my freshman class than in the entire school I left. Hallways, changing classes, schedules, rules—all wrought knots in my stomach. That change was more formidable than my eventual move to college—though a change toward my life goals, it was a challenge nevertheless.

Change carries the unknown in its bosom. While change may not exactly mean choosing “The Lady or the Tiger,” yet some change can portend so. A new job, moving to a new location (far or near)—most change, chosen or forced means adjustment; adjustment in direction, comfort, and attitude (or the need thereof). Ponder that; can you think of anything that you would want always to remain the same? Ironically, some people seem to. Don Gorske, of Fond du Lac, Wisconsin, has eaten a Big Mac everyday for over 50 years, according to Guinness World Records. However (and I don’t have irrefutable knowledge of this) he accepts other changes—as we all must (well, he did change from the original nine (9)-a-day to two-a-day).

Navigating change is often fraught with uncertainty, difficulty, and complexity. It is reassuring to know that God’s love and faithfulness are renewed every morning! We human beings may get weary or give up hope in the midst of assaults of uncertainty, or a difficult patch. But we are reassured that the steadfast love of God remains, well, steadfast!

The Apostle Paul gave final assurance of a final permanence (sounds redundant), and to that end, the uncertainty, pain, and loss migrate into hope. Very likely, just recently, in your place of worship, you heard words from the ancient prophet Isaiah Look! Look! I am doing a new thing! He was announcing that Hope, Love, Joy, and Peace are possible. In the thick of our doubts, fears, and missteps, we are not alone as we navigate this New Year! Hope is possible. Joy is possible. Love is possible. Peace is possible; and as the Apostle Paul spotlit “The greatest of these, is Love!.” (v13).

© Copyright Willis H. Moore 2022

Twenty years ago, we remodeled our kitchen—taking in part of the asymmetric den, all of the outside patio, adding a bathroom, and enlarging the laundry room. We discovered some unexpected “neighbors.” Chipmunks. The aging, undulating patio was paved with brick overlaying a sand base. Over the years, chipmunks had created a labyrinthine mass of trails; shall I say chipmunk village?

Since we had only recently moved into this house, we had not experienced chipmunks bothering us. Their scurrying across the yard was actually endearing. Our construction was dramatic; we needed to remove their entire playground, so they relocated themselves. Having lived in South Georgia all my life—surrounded by Pine trees, I seldom saw chipmunks. Now I was hearing stories of how annoying chipmunks can be.

Speaking of bothersome chipmunks, recently, while listening to Christmas music, I heard “Alvin, and the Chipmunks.” It opened another window to how annoying they ca be—(but I still think they are cute!) You may be old enough remember that raucous song, “Christmas Don’t Be Late” by David Seville and the Chipmunks from the late 1950’s. The recording featured a sound distortion depicting the misbehaving Alvin. The distortion was created by recording the song at half the speed; then over-recording at regular speed.

The days leading up to Christmas—-parties, shopping, friends and family gatherings, and preparing for the visit of Santa Claus—tend to create stress, on many levels. As much as Alvin and the Chipmunks may annoy you, they do give you a chance for comic relief, as you identify with David Seville and his dealing with “Alvin… ALVIN! Very likely, one of the common New Years Resolutions is “Next year, I will plan more carefully and not clutter my days.”

Chipmunks, one of God’s creatures, are of Canadian origin (often called “Red Squirrels” or “Striped Squirrels”), They play vital roles in our ecology. For one, they gather, store, and scatter seedlings; they are virtual farmers. They are also valuable for consuming fungi, in a significant role in the symbiotic relationship of tree root systems.

Usually, humans become annoyed by God’s creatures when they make our lives inconvenient, or they hinder (sometimes destroying) our daily lives. But it is we who have moved in on their natural habitat. All living creatures play a role in the natural world, albeit sometimes inconvenient to their human neighbors. All the way from The Old Farmer’s Almanac to University classrooms/laboratories, reliable, beneficial means of beneficial coexistence by humans and animals are studied.

The old Prophet, Isaiah had a vision of “The Peaceable Kingdom;” He was convinced that it is possible. Although overly romanticized, the world of Native Americans did make a lot of progress in this area; as did other civilizations. If you listen you can glean stories of families, tribes, and assorted groups being good stewards; putting to maximum use the produce of the land. The fathers of the Faith heard and passed on to generations, the intention of God’ The purpose of all Creation is to live together in harmony, benefitting from our common connectedness.

So Alvin & company, enjoy your sorties into lawns and forests! We’ll learn to live in harmony, living into the Peaceable Kingdom.

©Copyright Willis H. Moore 2022

I thoroughly enjoy Christmas music; “Jingle Bell Rock” by our own Brenda Lee (from Conyers, GA), “White Christmas” with Bing Crosby, “We need a Little Christmas,” The New Christy Minstrels, “Silent Night,” or “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.” When Christmas music begins on radio, I tune in; satellite radio is better, in that it is available anywhere. Some people object to Christmas music being broadcast before December 1. I can understand—when your workplace plays the same loop 24/7 for two months straight, it gorges. But I do like to hear Christmas music, the old and the new.

Christmas music made its entrance long before ubiquitous streaming and Mall Music assaulted our ears; there wasn’t as much variety or rapid spread, but it made its impact. I don’t know of a collection of Christmas carols, or songbook that does not include “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing.” written by hymnist, Charles Wesley. (He also wrote “Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus”—though not as popular). It is said that he wrote over 650 hymns. More than fifty of them are in the current United Methodist Hymnal (1988).

Charles Wesley’s birthday is one week before Christmas (December 18). He had a passion for the Church and Jesus hymns; maybe in the process he decided to create a Christmas Carol. Could it be that “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” is the result? Whatever his motivation, the hymn is a classic.

Unlike much of the contemporary “Christmas” music we hear, the hymns of Charles Wesley have joy—and substance. Apparently he wrote hymns constantly— nor was he glib or glitzy. His hymns invited a sense of the wholeness of the Christ he knew, loved, and desired to introduce to people of every walk of life.

Typical of the Wesley brothers, the lyrics are packed with solid theology, undergirding the power and impact of what Christmas is all about. John, Charles’ brother, wrote some hymns as well as preaching theologically sound sermons. Charles’ hymns were long—most of them too long for most hymnals to include in print. Listen to “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing.” There you find the joy and essence of the Incarnation.

For The Wesleys, Christmas is the Incarnation—the birth of Jesus, (not the birthday of Jesus—which blurs the impact of Christ being “born in our hearts”). Scripture has abundant references to God’s desire to make a home in our hearts. Another carol by Wesley, “Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus,” has abundant references to —living in our hearts, which amplifies God’s desire to make a home in our hearts.

Experts say what physical activity can do for your body, music may do for your brain. In fact, listening to music can keep your brain engaged as you age and provides a total brain workout. Any music lover can tell you that music can help you recall emotions from other times in life. It turns out that the power of music, found to bring back powerful memories, has a firm foundation in science…( Feb 20, 2019 | Tips For Seniors). This reminder is good news—-especially in these days of Advent, and other preparations for Christmas. So. Put on a CD or mp3, or the playlist you created and enjoy Christmas music. As Uncle Frank used to say, “It will do you good, and help you too!” …and here’s one of my favorite fun, animated Christmas songs; click and play!

White Christmas; with Clyde McPhatter and the Drifters

©Copyright Willis H. Moore 2022

Brand icons readily identify things such as products, services, and organizations. Some icons are globally recognized; the Apple logo, according to “The Visual Capitalist,” is in the top fifty. Followed by Amazon, Microsoft, and Google, in that order.

Tom Goodwin said, “Brands are essentially patterns of familiarity, meaning, fondness, and reassurance that exist in the minds of people.”— Marketing for the Modern Age. We develop emotional responses to experiences, negative or positive. If you have a memory of a dog bite, you develop negative connotations about dogs. If, on the other hand, your childhood puppy companion cuddled and pampered you, your feelings about dogs are dramatically positive. Michael Rader, founder of Brandroot, says “Brand names give businesses the opportunity to put a meaning behind their name with completely positive connotations.”

We don’t typically think about the Creche in terms of branding. It is, in a significant way, the Christian “brand” of Christmas; as contrasted with the Christmas tree. Case in point; some folks want to call the Christmas tree a “Holiday Tree”—you can’t very well call the Creche a “Holiday diorama.” The Creche DNA is embedded into the psyche of people globally. And the psyche, dear reader, includes the id, the ego, and the superego.

St. Francis of Assisi was not simply a mystic Italian monk, he was also immensely forward thinking. It was he who came up with the Creche; in itself, it is a marvelous montage of the Incarnation. That is especially true in a “living Nativity Scene;” each living being draws you into the miracle of Christ’s birth. Many adults who participate, or have participated in a live Creche, testify to significant ambient communion with God in the process; not to mention the insight, and often, humor that happens when one of the child participants muff’s (or ad libs) a line.

I still have our family’s Creche—from over five decades. We bought it in Levy’s department store in Savannah, GA when our children were toddlers. It survived a half dozen or more moves. It is not perfect, even from the beginning; there were five “Wise Men;” Over the years a camel’ leg was broken, we lost a sheep, and more recent moves turned up two sheep with broken feet; and all the excelsior is missing, as well as the light for the star. Still, it reminds me of Isaiah 65:17-25, where God promises to repair humanity.

Each year we gently unwrapped each component of the Creche, carefully putting it in place. Once all are in place, we plugged in the little bulb (representing the Star of Bethlehem) announcing Christmas has come! A friend of mine once said, his little boy kept moving the “Baby Jesus” from his manger bed. He said, “So Jesus showed up in unusual places.” It is kinda in character for Jesus, I think.

As for the number of Wise Men? That doesn’t really matter; no one knows how many. Anyway, they arrived—maybe weeks after the birth of Jesus—and we don’t know that date either. There are many “facts” we don’t know. Those facts are not the essentials. Such is the power of the Creche. It consolidates significance. It is a visual experience of the act of God, Immanuel, God with us.

©Copyright Willis H. Moore 2022

Deepstep Methodist Church was the church of my childhood. I do not remember Christmas caroling; church attendance was usually fewer than 100. The pastor had three other churches, and could only come to Deepstep the second Sunday each month; there was Sunday School every week. About all I knew about Christmas Carols, was that on Second Sunday in December, the hymns were always Carols. We had a small choir, and their music was respectable. (I did, however, get thrown out of a third-grade elementary school Christmas production; I tried—unbidden—-to sing in falsetto “We Three Kings of Orient Are.” It was not pretty!)

However, sometimes at Christmas, our youth group did go to homes of “shut-ins” to sing Carols. Often they invited us in from the cold to sing. The real joy was seeing their faces light up; we knew our music wasn’t great, but it seemed to mean a lot to the people we visited; my memories are those of joy.

Christmas Caroling has been around for centuries! It is thought that circa 1200 A.D.—before Christmas Caroling—there was group singing called Wassailing (name related to a hot spicy drink given to travelers in the cold)—unrelated to Christmas. In the winter months groups went from house to house, singing well wishes. Apparently this tradition was the seed that grew into Christmas Caroling. Melding the practice of Wassailing with songs about Jesus seems a natural evolution for enhancing stories about Jesus. The Carol, “Here We Come A Wassailing” is not a very popular Christmas Carol. However, it does contain some Christmas reference.

Singing was not typically part of Christmas until after St. Francis of Assisi began to enliven tableaux relating the birth stories of Jesus. St. Francis originated the Creche . It took a few hundred years for Christmas Carols, as a collection, to emerge. Upon publication, songs and stories—gathered from groups and families—interest and composition— developed. Carols became “stock-in-trade” in a manner of speaking. Upon being published as Christmas Carols in the sixteenth century, the Church became a megaphone, so to speak, of their spreading broadly. “Silent Night,” emerging as the most popular carol.

Caroling remains popular; about 17-20 percent of Americans report going “Christmas Caroling,” according to research by the respected Pew Research Center. Carolers it said, brave the frigid winter air to sing holiday well wishes in neighborhoods and churches across the country. It’s largely symbolic of community. Whether it’s a group of friends and family or strangers, caroling is one of the most favored ways for people to get into the holiday spirit.

Long before Caroling, The Psalmist urged the people to “…Make a joyful noise before the Lord…”and to come into his Presence with singing! The Psalmist emphasized the joy of singing unto the Lord. Underscoring the joy with shout joyfully to Him with psalms. A precursor to the joy of Christmas is in the voice of Elizabeth, the Virgin Mary’s cousin, as Mary announced her pregnancy. The two women joined together rejoicing over the good news.

The youth group at my church here goes Christmas Caroling. They usually visit those who cannot attend worship services. It is a double blessing; to the people visited, and to the youth who go and sing with them. Often, the folks they sing to join in singing with them—most don’t need a song sheet for the carols are etched into their memory.

©Copyright Willis H. Moore 2022

Don’t panic. We are still in NOVEMBER. December is six days away. However, for the past week or so, here in the South, we have been having December, or January weather; freezing temperatures. I think Mr. Winter is still miffed about calendar changes—beginning with Romulus long ago— circa 750 BC. —creating calendar amnesia. December comes from the Latin word “decem” which means ten. December the tenth month!? It has become a misnomer for the twelfth month. Thanks to the Julian and Gregorian calendars jumping in and unsettling things—again!

Why can’t folks just stop messing with Mr. Winter!? Doesn’t everyone know that you don’t mess with Mr. Winter! Look at Buffalo, New York’s experience last week—seven feet of snow! ! For the sake of all that is holly (it’s not a typo)!! Don’t mess with Mr. Winter! Got that out of my system! December really is a wonderful month (Hear that Mr. Winter!?) It is a month that evokes a bunch of nostalgia; Christmas, end-of-the-year reminiscences, birthdays, etc. Our family once had four December birthdays . Now there is only one; Jennifer’s. Her birthday is December 5. Until she finished college, we never started Christmas decorating until after December 5. We kept our family focus on her “Day.”

December is filled with religious holidays —there are thirteen; Dec. 6: Saint Nicholas Day — Christian, Dec. 8: Rohatsu (Bodhi Day) — Buddhist, Dec. 8: Immaculate Conception — Catholic, Dec. 10 to 18: Hanukkah — Judaism, Dec. 12: Feast Day of Our Lady of Guadalupe — Catholic, Dec. 16: Posadas Navidenas — Christian, Dec. 21: Solstice — Wicca/Pagan, Dec. 25: Christmas — Christian, Dec. 26: December 26- January 1 Kwanzaa, African Culture; Zarathosht Diso (Death of Prophet Zarathustra) — Zoroastrian, Dec. 27: Feast of the Holy Family — Catholic, Dec. 28: Holy Innocents Day — Christian, Dec. 31: Watch Night — Christian.

Over half of them from the Christian faith. In the church where I worship December is filled with festive, joyful events; choir practice, hanging the greens, poinsettias filing the chancel, children’s events, study, and worship—all flow in abundance. In addition to celebrating our church makes extra efforts to give time, money, and individual attention to a host of needs, in the community and beyond. A genuine glow unfolds, making December and the Christmas season take on that glow of immense joy.

No wonder the Christmas Carol, “Joy to The World” is inherent to December music. Hymnody holds that “Joy to The World” was not written to be a Christmas Carol; Isaac Watts, a phenomenal hymn writer, was writing hymns based on the Psalms of David. He had no thought of a Christmas Carol in mind. Enter composer, Lowell Mason—who composed music for the verse (It has become “an earworm”) and there you have it! December would be dull without this statement of joy!! (The hymn and lyrics).

Joy to the world, the Lord is come
Let Earth receive her King
Let every heart prepare Him room
And Heaven and nature sing
(And Heaven and nature sing)

©Copyright Willis H. Moore 2022

My dream clock stands in our living room. It is not an heirloom—though it may become one. The Clock has been in our family for over forty years. It is a 7 foot tall, Mahogany, cable weighted, tubular bells, grandfather clock, by Herschede. It offers a choice of three melodies; Westminster, Wittingdon, and Canterbury. It chimes on the quarter hour, and strikes the hour. I prefer the Westminster. It also offers a silent option.

Here’s the back story; years ago, while visiting an upscale furniture store, I gazed lustfully at grandfather clocks. A Herschede clock with tubular bells charmed me like an Indian Fakar charms a snake. Mellow tones echoed in my head like a soft waterfall; tones more melodic than the typical metal rods. Sorry, but I coveted that clock. Until. I. Saw. The. Price. — it was more than my annual salary back then! My heart sunk like the Titanic, and just as hopeless.

Time passed. Lots of time. One day while shopping —in a huge furniture warehouse—-in Odom, GA (a town of almost 300 population). I spied an array of grandfather clocks in the back. I looked closer. Several were Herschede clocks. Their prices were low like fire sale prices. I asked to see their catalog. There in bold color was MY clock! I asked the price—and the Titanic arose from Davy Jones’ Locker! — “Fire Sale” prices lived!

Then came some unexpected income—close to the price of the clock—and a miracle began to unfold before my eyes; I bought the clock! Herschede clocks are treated with almost sacred rituals and traditions. The store sent a horologist to unpack and set up the clock in our home. He wore white gloves. He moved magically, with the delicate touch of a brain surgeon. He instructed to, among other things, wind the clock every Sunday morning (Well, Saturday night works best for me!), don’t touch the brass works with bare hands. He started the clock and it chimed mellow tones—as if angels had come to visit. The chimes soon became the soundscape of our home.

Each time we moved, the clock had its special place and was wound. As it began to chime, our daughters would say, “We are home, now!” “Home!” they said. Always living in a parsonage—-someone else’s house—there is little of your own personal touch. Familiar sights, smells, and sounds in a house help make it a home. And now, Thanksgiving and Christmas 2022 are on their way; certain rituals, sights, sounds, and smells are virtually inherent in these celebrations. They meld with accents, that help you feel “at home.”

My heart is warmed with the “glad-you-are-here” sound of hospitality in our family. Hospitality is a constant in the Bible. There’s the story of the abandoned slave—-tired, hungry, and alone. David and his cohorts fed and nourished him, making him feel welcomed. I am also reminded of a story Jesus told of a wayward son who, uncertain of how he would be received, came home to warmth and celebration. He could say with confidence, “I am home, now!”

©Copyright Willis H. Moore 2022

A number of my friends are Veterans, as are many of my acquaintances. For years, on Veterans’ Day during veteran recognition, I remained silent and seated. A spectator. Although I served my country in the Army National Guard, I didn’t feel I deserved to be called a veteran. (I was a cook—not even wounded there!) My unit was never deployed—we remained in my hometown, Sandersville, GA. Out of respect to “official” veterans, I usually quipped, “The only combat I experienced was fighting mosquitoes at”Camp Swampy”—Ft. Stewart, GA.”

My friend, the late Col. Richard (Dick) Baker, a Marine, corrected me one day. He said, “You took The Oath. You promised to serve. You served your tour. You are a Veteran.” He got my attention. As I thought about what he said, I remembered that just a few months after I was discharged, my unit was put on alert—and deployed. My fellow soldiers, their wives and children, were uprooted. If I had I not already been discharged my life too, would have been dramatically uprooted. So. I took another tack and took seriously the true meaning of “The Oath.”

Now, on Veterans Day (which happens to be today) I contact friends who are veterans, and thank them for their service. We all took The Oath: “I, ____________________, do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. So help me God.”

The phrase “… foreign and domestic…” was added after the Civil War, because Congress realized that enemies could (and did) arise within the homeland. It is a serious oath. Veterans’ cemeteries and gravestones testify to the gravity of The Oath. Deployment seals how seriously these faithful men and women take The Oath, as they prepare their Last Will and Testament—and their “final” plans. It signals the potential that they may indeed make the ultimate sacrifice.

By the time you read this, very likely you will have already attended, viewed, or participated in a Veterans Day observance. Veterans Day is in appreciation for the living service members, a kind of “Thank you” for your service. (Memorial Day honors those who did in fact make the ultimate sacrifice).

War is evil. Long ago a general said, “War is Hell!” Politically motivated war—even more so. But our faithful service members, impervious to ignoble war initiatives, run toward the fight to “…support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic;” For taking that oath of ultimate commitment, we thank them.

Today, this Veterans Day, we say “Thank You!” As we lift our eyes toward the Prince of Peace, in the eternal hope that step by step, we—as the old Spiritual says we “…ain’t gonna study war no more…” In a few weeks, Christians will hear the words (sung and/or spoken) from the old Prophet Isaiah; he speaks of a world where instead of fighting each other, people would transform machines of war into instruments of help, health, and hope for humanity.

©Copyright Willis H. Moore 2022

Last Sunday was All Saints Sunday. As often happens, sacred religious festivals are often hijacked by secular sales promotions. Halloween likely holds the world record for such sales. But I digress. Christian churches around the world observe All Saints Day by remembering family, friends, and acquaintances who have died—usually those who died since the last All Saints Day; COVID -19 upended many observances—confused our days—interrupted appropriate recognition of the deaths of family and friends.

A case in point, the death Col. Richard F. (Dick) Baker, my oldest and closest friend. Our friendship jelled in college. We were fraternity brothers, in college band, earned our Red Cross Water Safety Instructor Certifications together; on one occasion—in my job as student assistant in the college Speech Department—I was recording technician in a couple of performances of their pseudo-“Four Freshmen” concerts (they really did sound like them!)

We kept in touch over the years; his U. S. Marine deployments—Vietnam, Korea, Hawaii; my pastoral appointments around Georgia. When I came to Emory and Columbia to work on my doctorate, He and Joyce, his bride (whom he married during our college days) treated me to delicious home-cooked food! After I moved to Tucker, GA , he and I had breakfast together every Friday morning. Over the next—few short years before he died of cancer—we caught up on and re-lived many of our years past, enjoying our present times together.

Baker was like Barnabas, “The encourager” who stood by the apostle Paul in good and tough times. When you have a friend like that, you wonder: “Was I as good a friend to him!?” Of course one cannot dwell on nor change the past. One can only draw on the past for memories—and future improvement.

Good friendships stand out in history. They are part of social glue creating glorious connections and stories. A dramatic indication of a friendship Jesus had was Lazarus. The Common English Bible makes it clear that Jesus was close to Lazarus. In front of not only family and friends, but also the curious and hecklers—Jesus cried. That’s what we do when we care deeply.

A strangely knit friendship found in the Old Testament is Jonathan, King David’s son. I find it rare that Jonathan, the son of David’s mortal enemy and David were such close friends. I Samuel recounts many of the rich experiences the two friends had over the years.

Jonathan went to great lengths to protect David from Saul, his father. One writer said, “David looked after Jonathan’s children long after he was dead. Great friends do those kinds of things for each other.” True friendships endure great difficulty; in many cases obstacles and hardships weld strong bonds for life. Bella DePaulo, Ph.D., says a crucial element in maintaining an enduring friendship is to forgive yourself and your friend for not being perfect. It is clear that this component was strong in the friendship between Jonathan and David.

You cannot buy true friendship; you cannot concoct true friendship. Psychologists, pundits, and prognosticators offer a plethora of components “necessary” for forming friendships. Some are useful. Basically friendships emerge. What makes them solid draws clues from agriculture; a seed needs good soil, cultivation, irrigation, and care. This is not a Hastings Seed Catalogue for friendships, but friendship needs those components.

©Copyright Willis H. Moore 2022

At age 12, I learned to drive—-in big Chevrolet trucks. I lived on a farm—dirt roads—ahhh, sweet freedom. My dad was a trucker, hauling Kaolin. I learned to drive on one of his big commercial trucks; four-in-the-floor a rigger on the shift lever for reverse. It was exhilarating! First, I was excited, if only to drive up to his gas pump and fill the tank for his next day driving; getting to “drive” those few feet and park a truck was a thrill!

Over the years I enjoyed driving a wide variety of vehicles; cars, trucks, vans, busses—even an Army National Guard 49K pound tank. But my latest thrill was “Big Blue”—a 2019 Chevrolet Silverado 2500, Crew Cab truck. When Paige and I had our camping trips we pulled our 27 foot camper with a Buick (which had an Oldsmobile 450 engine). It was powerful. In campgrounds, when I saw Chevrolet 2500’s pulling campers I salivated!

Three years ago—we no longer camped—I sold my car and ordered “Big Blue;” Blue, because it was Paige’s favorite color—Chevrolet Silverado 2500—-because, well—just because. Paige saw and approved Big Blue. Her opinion mattered. I was well past a midlife crisis, but not immune to its siren call. I thrilled to feel the strength, the awesomeness of Big Blue.

Big Blue has had quite a run—came in handy for moving; Jennifer, my daughter, and I, moved together. Then, for college, Zach, my grandson moved—twice (or was it three). Katie, my granddaughter moved. Big Blue dominated everything—a little too much, as it turned out. Each time a family member moved, Big Blue was called into service. It was —kinda like driving one of my dad’s big trucks! Big Blue and I had a great run! It was fun!—“Was” fun. I decided to downsize—to be more sensible, and let Big Blue go.

Maybe I should have read more carefully Ecclesiastes 11. While it is good to have joy in one’s life, it can easily be overblown. Zach is deep into Environmental graduate studies; although he enjoyed Big Blue, he was taken aback by its voracious gas consumption. Zach became a key guide in my selecting my new vehicle; Environmentally conservative, it has nearly infinite safety features, and, in a word, is “sensible.”

An ancient writer offers guidelines for being a good manager. Not that I had ignored this message; it is just that it is coming to mean more to me. As the writer said, Do this so that in everything God may be honored through Jesus Christ. (My emphasis). Caring about the Environment—God’s creation—is big part of that. The Apostle Paul counsels clear and mature reasoning as he calls the church in Rome to focus; pay attention to what is essential. Good advice still.

©Copyright Willis H. Moore 2022