I have always enjoyed music. (stay with me—-it relates!) My mother was good at piano, so was my sister—when she wanted to be. My father played trumpet and Saxophone in high school. Although I enjoyed music, I did not take it seriously enough to work at it; that is, until I saw the movie, The Stars and Stripes Forever. It tells the story of John Philip Sousa, who grew up virtually in the United States Marine Band. He became known as the “March King… bringing the United States Marine Band to an unprecedented level of excellence: a standard upheld by every Marine Band Director since.”

The movie includes the story of how from the Tuba a twin was hatched—the Sousaphone; named for, well, John Philip Sousa. I got home from the movie and told my father, I want to play the Sousaphone. I signed up for lessons, and was kinda defaulted into the high school band; a new director arrived after I’d had four months of lessons. He announced a meeting to organize band for the new year. He didn’t know I was such a fledgling so he kept me—he needed at least one Sousaphone in the marching band. In college I made a similar unlikely debut, but studying trombone, I soon gravitated from Sousaphone to 4th chair trombone.

The Sousaphone is big. It is heavy. It is cumbersome. It must be dismantled for travel. Still, I had fun in band. I made friends, many of whom I continue with some rapport. Football games, parades, band tours, all added experience and richness to this kid from Deepstep, GA.

I have storied experiences from those years; Once, at a football game, as the band lined up at the goalpost for halftime, the Drum Major whistled forward march! A smoker tossed his lighted cigarette down the bell of my Sousaphone—I never found out if smoke billowed from the bell…. but I got more than a whiff of the smoke through the mouthpiece! On one occasion, the a brisk wind on the football field caught the Sousaphone’s huge bell and nearly blew me out of formation (I weighed only 125 pounds!).

Our college band was invited to march in a parade somewhere in South Georgia. As we waited in parade formation a besotted citizen chose to stop and chat. His conversation ended as the parade started—with him saying loud enough for anyone to hear, “Hey boy! Toot that thing!” And then, there was the time (with trombone now) as parade formation was assembling, I let my slide, well, slide—completely off onto the grass. I barely had time to clean and oil it before we marched down the street.

Paige, my late wife, and I were in college band together; she played saxophoneit was my trombone era. Both our daughters grew up to play in high school band; Melanie went to Governor’s’ Honors in Flute and piccolo. Jennifer played Saxophone and was a majorette–leading their band in the Cherry Blossom Parade in Washington D.C. in sub freezing weather—actually, it was not that cold, but they felt like it was in their skimpy uniforms.

You do not have to be perfect or spectacular to enjoy music. Nor must you shackle yourself to a practice room ten hours a day for music to matter to you —which is why neither of our daughters chose to major in music. Granted, superb musicians do take the severe practice sessions route. Many make that choice because of a number of rational reasons; However, there are musicians who feel, or felt, imprisoned. That is sad. Music should lilt and flow, not shackle and force.

Music is good for the soul. When King Saul was in a deep depression, he sent servants searching for a musician to lift his spirits. They found the shepherd boy David, and brought him in to help. Later, When David was in power, he set aside officially, a family of musicians with a variety of instruments. The Bible is profuse with stories of music, musicians, and musical instruments. And. For a lighter take on music—there is an aphorism among preachers: Good music can redeem a poor sermon, but there is no sermon that can redeem poor music!

“Did you ever see a turtle on a post?” My friend, Rev. Tom Mills, was fond of saying. “You know he did not get there by himself!” It is important to appreciate the benefactors who got us where we are. As we approach Thanksgiving holidays I began thinking of the splendid line of benefactors in my life. Most to whom I never gave a proper “Thank you!”

Without question, my nuclear family was my matrix. As I reflect on it, even from the slips, skips, and bumps I am a beneficiary. Faults and failures can be instructive. It is impossible to name all my benefactors here, nor would you want or need to know. However, I must acknowledge a few key leavening agents in my life; Grandmother Jewel sent gifts on birthdays, Christmas, and Easter; not toys or trinkets— but books that were not only age-level appropriate, but also classics. She loved teaching us children’s songs

When there was no Sunday School room for early elementary children at Deepstep Methodist Church, Grandmother Genie Veal cleaned out a broom closet, brought in chairs, and taught our class. She also taught us respect for the building, and its appointments. Every morning she picked up the UPPER ROOM devotional book that lay by her breakfast plate, and read to us the day’s meditation. It didn’t seem to matter to her that her grits got cold.

An impressive line of teachers and mentors populate my benefactor trail. Some of them, Irene Hall, Otelia Price, and Louise Mills, undergirded my Sunday School and Bible tutelage. Revs. Jack Key and Jack Bentley took the role of “Barnabas” in my fledgling entry into ministry. Teachers, Ms. Hazel Bedgood Metts, my long-suffering high school teacher (I had 10th & 11th Grade English, Journalism, and American Literature from her). She was the muse of my venture into writing; Dr. Clyde J. Faries honed (as far as he could) my public speaking; Dr. Fielding Russell (brother to the late Senator Richard B. Russell,) ignited my love for English Literature.

I cannot begin to name the many lay people, family, and clergy who did and continue to shape my life. But almost every day I reflect on one or more of the “cloud of witnesses” who live in my life and heart. In Alfred Lord Tennyson’s Ulysses, he said, “I am a part of all that I have met.” That’s it in a nutshell! There is more to you than you can recognize, but for what is recognizable, appropriate gratitude is due.

Even of those bumps, bruises, and failures in times past, you and I are beneficiaries. The Apostle Paul proclaimed that failure did not define him. He found ways to move forward. The Holy Scriptures are full of the redeeming love of God; Think King David, whose moral lapse (maybe collapse?) was redeemed; starting with Psalm 51. Other Psalms attributed to him echo his 180° turn-around. Jesus offered absolution to a woman who was about to be stoned to death for her iniquitous ways, and he offered Eternal hope to a criminal who hung dying beside him.

The Apostle Paul took time to encourage his son-in-ministry, Timothy. He wrote a heartfelt appreciation for his and Timothy’s benefactors, Busy as he was, and the duress under which he operated, he remembered. It is too easy for us, weighed down by schedules, obligations, and voiceless, implied demands to forget to offer a simple “Thank you!” The morass can be numbing. But there is hope; remember the turtle on the post? It is a metaphor for every one of us. None of us got where we are by ourselves. The benefactors in our life played a major role in putting us where we are. Thank you—each one!

Yesterday our nation celebrated Veterans Day (not to be confused with Memorial Day, which honors the memory of those who died while serving their country.) Veterans Day honors living members of the U. S. Armed Forces who were discharged under conditions other than dishonorable. Some businesses offer special largesse to Veterans; parades, presentations, and personal recognitions are given in many places.

Veterans Day (always November 11) officially replaced Armistice Day. Armistice Day recognized that Major hostilities of World War I were formally ended at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month of 1918 when the Armistice with Germany went into effect. At the urging of major U.S. veteran organizations, Armistice Day was renamed Veterans Day in 1954. (From Affairs, Office of Public and Intergovernmental.) “History of Veterans Day – Office of Public and Intergovernmental Affairs”. www.va.gov.)  According to the Selective Service System, The last draft call was on December 7, 1972.

It is important to celebrate Veterans Day: It is virtually impossible to counterpoise the celebration with the incredible sacrifices these service members made. But we invite the veterans, stand with them, show them our appreciation; in some measure it lets our veterans know a grateful nation appreciates the oath they took, the efforts they made and loyalty they showed. We thank you for your service.

My small contribution to the day—but significant to me— is to call my veteran friends to thank them for their service. The list is shorter this year. My latest loss was Marine Col. Richard Baker; we were friends since our college days. He taught me the moral and covenantal authority that drives the camaraderie of military service alliance. That oath we took upon being inducted into military service is serious, and never to be taken lightly.

A good example of how seriously soldiers take their oath is found in a conversation Jesus had with a Drill Sergeant. That officer defined his concern about his desperately ill servant, and revealed his intense loyalty to authority. He knew what it means to lay one’s life on the line—well, that is it. Did you know that when service members are about to be deployed, they must have their final plans in place; Power of Attorney, a Will, etc.? That gets your attention!

Uriah was an officer in King David’s army. King David called Uriah home under the pretense of offering him connubial comfort with his wife, Bathsheba. David was hoping that Uriah’s visit would be conjugal, and said so; and hoped to cover up the reality that David had gotten Bathsheba pregnant. Uriah resisted all attempts to be sent home to his wife, saying he would sleep at the Palace gate; he could not bear to enjoy the comforts of home while his own troops were sleeping in the field, and battling the Ammonites.

Uriah’s heart for his soldiers is an icon for the loyalty our veterans lived every day they wore the uniform. Unlike David’s lechery, Uriah’s heart cared for his soldiers’ welfare. It has become a common occurrence these days to tell our service members “Thank you for your service!” Veterans Day, is a time the when we all can say “Thank you for your service!” …in a grand way.

Even though the day has passed, this year, tell a Veteran you appreciate his or her willingness to lay down his/her life for our nation. Pay it forward for a Veteran at the coffee shop. Ask about his or her service; Sit and sip together and listen—really listen—-to the story that veteran wants to tell—especially if it is an older veteran. It will excite astonishment and appreciation in that dear soul. Not many people are willing listeners to what wants to be said.

Fortunately, it seems that more attention is being focused on helping veterans open up and therapeutically share their stories. Importantly, medical science has made inroads for military openness in treating PTSD. We cannot remove their wounds, but we can show that we care. I hope that’s what we offered on Veterans Day, and will continue always to offer .

Two poets commented on trees; one took an anthropomorphic approach, the other was more whimsical:

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
-BY JOYCE KILMER,

…then, Ogden Nash offers a more whimsical approach to our perennial woody friends;

I think that I shall never see
a billboard lovely as a tree.
Perhaps, unless the billboards fall,
I’ll never see a tree at all.
-Ogden Nash

The first complaint I remember about someone cutting down a tree, was from an uncle; he stopped by the road where Grandaddy said an Oak tree needed to come down. I could not hear his brother’s words—he was railing something about killing a tree that had taken decades to grow. After his rant, he stomped off toward his car, and sped off to his farm. I didn’t quite see his point, since out in the country there we were engulfed in trees.

I think Kilmer captured the essence of God’s intent; to give humanity the task, no, the opportunity for stewardship of this green planet (well, green so far). God called forth green intending to grow plants and trees, to enhance life in a healthy environment. Well it was a great idea, but you guessed it—the human element got greedy and now we got what we got. The ‘Dust Bowl’ of the 1930’s is an example of a human-created catastrophe. The Dust Bowl disaster was essentially redeemed by strategically planting trees. They are good for holding the soil, retaining moisture, and being wind barriers reducing blown dust.

Clear-cutting is a critical matter obviously. We have not learned from history; clear-cutting for settlements and farming did massive damage to our countryside. A treeless landscape is a hazard to the environment; think “The Dust Bowl.” Even now, on a thoroughfare near our house, there are three estates—that I can see— being clear-cut for dense development; they are hulking gouges into the enticing verdure of that street.

Trees Atlanta partners with community members, businesses, and organizations to conserve and expand the urban forest in which we live. The organization brings into sharp focus, the need for a good tree canopy as contrasted with pavement, concerte, and buildings. Some scientific studies are now verifying that several treeless places in the city—having been measured with electronic meters—are actually hot spots; ground-coverage of pavement and development, sans trees is the primary cause.

The Prophet Jeremiah pointed out that the fathers’ sins have consequences that affect generations to follow; it should be a cautionary tale, calling us all to be better stewards of the earth. Jeremiah precedes that warning by announcing the good news of God’s providence. On a lighter biblical note, a tree played a key role enabling Zacchaeus to see, and later have dinner with Jesus.

I like to think God had in mind that trees would to populate the earth, providing food, fun, fragrance, and fundamental support for humanity. As in the verse I cited earlier, God said, Let the earth grow plant life: plants yielding seeds and fruit trees bearing fruit with seeds inside it, each according to its kind throughout the earth. Doesn’t that sound as if God provides trees as another way to show his love for us?

Halloween (October 31) and All Saints Day (November 1) have become tangled traditions. And here’s the RWV (The Revised Willis Version.) For Christians, All Saints Day is a feast day. It allows believers to revere those who have died. In the Catholic Church, Saints are dead Christians; they are designated Saints only after they are thoroughly vetted for their good works; canonized—(critically reviewed, evaluated for official approved, —Whew—) then they are officially recognized as Saints by the Church.

Merriam-Webster gives two definitions of a Saint; 1a: one officially recognized especially through canonization as preeminent for holiness —abbreviation St. 2a: one of the spirits of the departed in heaven —in both cases, dead. Halloween–and I got this straight out—is an adulteration of “All Hallows’ evening” or “All Hallows’ Eve” You can see, there was an easy migration from celebrating the memory of the dead.—-today’s Halloween is a fer piece down the road from All Hallows ‘en.

While I am writing this, you can hardly drive down any street without seeing Halloween decorations on doors, in trees, yards, vehicles, and face-painted, too. Although COVID-19 shut down Halloween last year, and is severely curtailing Trick-or-Treat activity this year, alternative means are ubiquitous. Our Church joins in on the fun with “Trunk-or-Treat,” fun and treats outside in the parking lot.

Almost any idea or celebration can go too far, or become misguided. Halloween is a fun time; it can become a teaching moment as well. I think Christians actually do a better job dealing with the juggernaut Christmas evolved into by incorporating excellent teaching moments—-a kind of reclaiming the original purpose. Halloween, not so much.

Some Christians complain that Halloween hijacked the meaning of All Hallows Evening and All Saints Day. Some go so far as to say it is anti-Christian; citing the emphasis on Witches, Goblins, Ghosts, and Zombies. For sure, part of the secular influence is an adulteration of the Christian observance; it derives from the reality that the Saints being celebrated are, well, dead. Some cultures go a lot further with the dead theme than is typical in the USA.

The New Testament is rife with descriptions of saintly people, meaning “fully mature in the faith.” Missing in our current milieu is the essence of why we celebrate those who have gone before us, leaving legacies worthy of emulating. Certain passages come to mind, Ephesians 4:12-13, or Hebrews 11:1-3, or a specific reference to “saints,” Hebrews 11:4. But you get the idea. I love the comment —attributed to a child (or maybe it’s apocryphal)—“A saint is someone that the light shines through!”

  Theologically Methodist’s observe All Saints Day on the Sunday closest to November 1. It is revered as a time of “giving God solemn thanks for the lives and deaths of his saints“, including both the famous or obscure. The larger picture is the strong belief that we are surrounded by “…a great cloud of witnesses...” We both revere those who have died, and celebrate the faith;a tradition we share with those who have gone before us. Have a Blessed All Saints Day!…..and Happy Halloween, Y’all!

In Country Music lore, the origin of the song, “Blue Suede Shoes” grew out of a comment Carl Perkins overheard; he, Johnny Cash, and Elvis Presley were touring together. While playing for a dance, Carl overheard a boy scolding his date—“Don’t step on my blue suede shoes!”—cherishing his “blue suede shoes” more than the pretty girl with him. “Blue suede shoes” resonated with Johnny Cash—reviving a memory from his military experience while serving in the military in Germany; He remembered Airmen grousing when people scuffied their highly polished shoes—which they called—“Blue Suede Shoes.” Johnny suggested that Carl write a song about it, but Carl was nonplussed over the idea.

Ideas have a way of budding into blossoms. Somehow, “Blue Suede Shoes” soon rang a bell with Carl; he grabbed a piece of paper and started writing…and you know the rest of the story; Elvis’ versions, (he had three) of course, became the most popular, though Carl Perkins did record a version. The tempo and novelty of the song (especially Elvis’s gyrations) sped it up the charts. Singing “Blue Suede Shoes” drowns out its caustic subtext; at the very least it is a microaggression.

We don’t know what happened to the relationship between that boy and the pretty girl; I hope she dumped him on the spot. The boy may have been joking, or making a knee jerk response to the scuffing of his blue suede shoes. However, the Gabby Petito murder is opening the eyes of many as to how the often invisible, Boys-will-be-boys, incidents develop tragically.

Most, if not all of us either didn’t know or have forgotten about the blue suede shoes comment; Carl Perkins’ song—with Elvis Presley “turning on the afterburners”—diverted attention from the germ of an often winked-at idea. And yet. The subtext of that song title is pretty clear; “Don’t tread on my precious things.” In this case, what was precious to that guy was NOT his girl.

Callousness, the lack of compassion for others is not new. Lady MacBeth complained that her husband was too full of…the milk of human kindness… to kill his rivals. Humanity is hollow, when it lacks a pulsing of human kindness—-which includes at its heart, being considerate, caring, and having some degree of compassion. Some years ago the concept— “Random acts of kindness,” emerged, catching on rather dramatically. The idea creates more than a modicum of motion; always bringing a breath of hope, if not outright joy.

The Apostle Paul included kindness when he cataloged the fruit of the spirit. He had just finished counselling the church at Galatia against base human tendencies that draw down, destroy, and dismember human relationships. Notice that he concluded with good counsel, fostering a positive, productive attitude. Jesus, Paul’s master teacher, gave the ultimate essential guidance; In both word and consummate example, Jesus taught his followers to Love one Another, as I have loved you. That is powerful stuff!

While traveling in middle Georgia on GA 49, we passed a church. Melanie, age 6, read the sign; “New Hope Baptist Church.” She quipped, “I wonder where Old Hope Baptist Church is?” It made me wonder, “Once we have new hope, do we abandon old hope?” How do we handle hope anyway; old hope, new hope, no hope? They shuffle through our lives in one way or another.

Hope springs eternal in the human breast, said poet Alexander Pope . In 1733 he wrote the following; The soul, uneasy and confin’d from home / Rests and expatiates (hope?) in a life to come. (From Pope’s An Essay on Man). Yet, as you think about it, hope is also a vital ingredient of everyday life. You miss a salary raise, so you evaluate and repair hoping for better the next opportunity. Your special pot of chili didn’t win first prize; so you enter again next year. You rush your loved one to the Emergency Room, and sit all night in the hope that sunrise will bring good news. It is natural for us, even the toughest of times, to find optimism; we tend to seek the better.

The Inferno is the first part of Dante’s Divine Comedy; “Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here!” is blazoned above the entrance to Hell. Hell is the “realm … of those who have rejected spiritual values by yielding to bestial appetites or violence, or by perverting their human intellect to fraud or malice against their fellowmen”. (adapted). For those who reject the notion of Hell (theologically), there is what is known as “a living hell.” Harper-Collins dictionary describes a living hell; a situation or a place that is extremely unpleasant or that causes great suffering.

When times are tough, it is tempting to become discouraged, or worse, lose hope. Harriet Beecher Stowe,  American author and abolitionist, encouraged a focus on hope; When you get into a tight place and everything goes against you, till it seems as though you could not hang on a minute longer, never give up then, for that (hope) is just the place and time that the tide will turn. (parentesis mine).

Hope is not a fantasy—“Pie-in-the-sky,” a dream, though it could include that. The Apostle Paul made it clear that hope is not weaving gausey wisps of delights to come. There is also joy now; He goes on to contend that hope is always something that cannot be seen yet. Paul insists that hope is one of the three enduring qualities we have in this life. Billy Graham, embracing Paul’s comment, said; Perhaps the greatest psychological, spiritual, and medical need that all people have is the need for hope.

In a book with a title unlikely to suggest hope—The Book of Lamentations, I find bright attention focused on rising from despair; Therefore I have hope...God’s mercies are new every morning! What a marvelous way to awaken! …knowing the new day awaits— offering joy filled opportunities, even if sometimes obscure (after all, isn’t it necessary to mine AND polish—diamonds!?).

I close this post with a powerful statement by an articulate, brilliant man—G. K. Chesterson, a 20th century writer, philosopher, lay theologian, literary, and art critic. “To love means loving the unlovable. To forgive means pardoning the unpardonable. Faith means believing the unbelievable. Hope means hoping when everything seems hopeless.” (Emphasis mine).

Well, here we are; football season is upon us. Most teams have learned to work around the threat of COVID-19 or Delta viral infection—some more than others. Kudos to those requiring strict adherence to established protocols of safety; team members as well as spectators. You will notice that teams also are deeply invested in teamwork; even when the team loses, there is strong evidence of teamwork.

Teamwork is really a form of trust. It’s what happens when you surrender the mistaken idea that you can go it alone and realize that you won’t achieve your individual goals without the support of your colleagues.
— Pat Summitt, basketball coach

Isn’t it interesting that often the people most vocal about supporting “their” team, are the people who tend not to exemplify “teamwork” in many their daily doings? Me first, my way, my freedom, often overshadow solid interpersonal relations. It is rather odd that such attitudes show up in some team venues. Almost anyone who enjoys playing on a team, in an orchestra, or a band knows the joy, fellowship, and satisfaction of such a shared experience.

I know the joy that comes from playing in a band—high school band, dance band, college band, and now, the Altar Egos Bluegrass band in our church….and, in my early days—the choir at Deepstep Methodist Church (uhhh not to be compared with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir). I never became an accomplished musician; I am supremely grateful for fellow band members who always allowed me to join in with them. Many are often helpful, and none harsh or critical—exemplary Teamwork!

In the years following WWII, industries far and wide learned the value of teamwork from W. Edwards Deming. His focus on teamwork eventually brought into sharp focus quality improvement; virtually transforming workplaces and production the world over. As in any team effort done well, excellence results.

Speaking of teamwork, this fall our church is re-starting the children’s choirs; We have some virtual (no pun intended) “wizards” in music and technology, who combine individual practice/performance using Zoom technology. Teamwork!—through the leaders and parent-student preparation and production.

Memories of past productions by children’s choirs tell of lots of joy, pleasure, and, well….uhhh forgiveness. We love it when the children sing, even if electronically enhanced. In many cases, it is the earliest learning of teamwork, both for the leaders and the children.

Writing about the hope of peace, the prophet Isaiah suggests a child as the icon, if not the prototype, of Peace. While children are not always the epitome of teamwork, they certainly give us hope and visions of what can be. Jesus taught his disciples to learn from children—a metaphor of the Kingdom of Heaven.

We human beings still have a lot to learn about teamwork—although Jesus did not mention teamwork. When He deployed the vanguard of the Kingdom of God, he dispatched his disciples in teams of two. And the New Testament bustles with references to the early church being launched by teams of two or more. And. A poplar quip in the vernacular, “There is no “I” in teamwork!”

The Apostle Paul summarized the essence of teamwork as he described the church as the Body of Christ. As he describes it, every part of the body has a specific assignment, but all work together for the common goal of helping the body (the team). There is real joy when the body has great teamwork!

Blessed. First, I am blessed with two wonderful daughters; each highly accomplished in her field (credit their mom!). But today October 1, marks a milestone; forty years ago today, Ovarian Cancer was discovered in, and removed from Melanie, our first daughter; she was 16; a “mixed germ cell tumor” weighing nearly half her birth weight. Dramatic surgery, once-a-month-in-the hospital, week-long, infusions of powerful triple-drug chemotherapy, and at last—cancer-free. Back in those days the survival rate for Ovarian Cancer was 10% or less. Gratitude is much too weak a word to use, but the feeling goes to the core.

Three in our immediate family survived cancer; each from a different kind. Which leads me, not only to feel blessed, but also a deeper appreciation for the science of medicine; as well as the care of medical professionals at every level—staff, Certified Nursing Assistants (CNAs, who do much of the really unpleasant work), nurses, doctors, to those who labor long lonely hours in labs doing medical research . More than two decades ago, after Paige had Breast Cancer, she asked her doctor if she should accept the invitation to join a clinical trial? He said, “It is your choice. But if clinical trials had not been done, Melanie would not be with us today.” Paige entered the clinical trial.

Today many folks sneer at medical research, dismissing advice of medical authorities, only to turn to Internet hearsay. I Have first-hand knowledge of medical personnel toiling over people who ignored sound medical advice for their care; spurned lifesaving opportunity—leading to severe, often fatal results. Not to mention the emotional toll on the medical staff who served relentlessly, only to see the patient die.

We all are blessed far beyond our comprehension; committed, caring, people roll out of bed each day; their goal, to discover, develop, and use their learned lifesaving medical practices. Their efforts result in healing, rehabilitation devices, and health facilities for humanity. I thank God for every effort and everyone in the journey.

There are those who say “I don’t need medicines or doctors—God will heal me.” I too, believe God heals. Most of the time God heals through the knowledge, physical efforts, and commitment of human beings. Do those people mean, for example, that if their vehicle plunges over a cliff, and they survive that…”God surely did save my life!” Do they believe the physical hand of God reached out and lifted the vehicle to safety? Mostly the hand of God was in the development, and implementation of safety measures (which I believe God inspired into existence through human knowledge); and —-saved through medical procedures and personnel.

Jesus tried to teach this to his disciples; God works mainly through human beings. While Jesus was working wonders on earth, to the astonishment of everyone, he tried to point this out to his followers. Jesus said, in effect, “You ain’t seen nothing yet!” (RWV the Revised Willis Version.) God is with you and the best is yet to come. And we are, as Jesus said we would, doing even greater things than he did—think medical research, hospitals, healthcare facilities, laboratories, rehabilitation resources. Jesus healed relatively few; today his healing work multiplies through human beings!

The old song, “Count Your Many Blessings, Name Them One-by-One,” speaks volumes; In our family’s experience, with no way to name them all, I count outsize blessings; Support by family, friends, church, neighbors, and strangers from afar, showing caring and hope. Cards, letters, visits, food, and filling in as needed; the medical folk from research to nursing, doctors, all; bore us up “on Eagles’ Wings.” I cannot forget another huge blessing; Paige had enough personal and sick-leave days that she could be in the hospital, at home, wherever, for Melanie. She had saved them up, having taught school for nearly 20 years.

So, yes! We—and you, —all are blessed—take a sober look around. Take it all in. You too, will count your many blessings—naming them, one by one!. Maybe you too will, as does our family, believe in “Prayer and Medication,” and feel blessed. We take it all quite seriously.

Disinformation has been called “The Fifth Horseman of the Apocalypse”. As you will recall, there are “Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.” As they are presented, the first horseman is on a white horse, carrying a bow, and given a crown; riding forward as a figure of conquest, perhaps invoking Pestilence. The second carries a sword and rides a red horse, creating War. The third is a food merchant riding upon a black horse, symbolizing Famine; he carries The Scales. The fourth rides a pale green horse, and upon it rides Death and Hell. All of which seemed to be the worst that could happen. Though it’s not in the Bible, Disinformation now seems to be one more Pestilence, The Fifth horseman, rides on the human tongue—in its various forms.

The late theologian Dallas Willard said, Practice in not speaking can at least give us enough control over what we say that our tongues do not “go off” automatically. This discipline provides us with a certain inner distance that gives us time to consider our words fully and the presence of mind to control what we say and when we say it. Disinformation amounts to electronic gossip. Remember the old parlor game, “Gossip,” where a phrase is whispered into the ear of one person, who whispers to the next what they thought they heard, and so on it goes around the room. The last person reveals what he/she heard. 99 times out 100, the last phrase is a galaxy away from the original phrase.

To listen is to be fully present to the person—the context, the nuances. My grandaddy often said, “People tend to tell things like they want it to sound.” The following passage from the Book of James, underscores what Willard is saying:  We all make mistakes often, but those who don’t make mistakes with their words have reached full maturity. 

A quick glance of our own experience of a wagging tongue impugns us, if we’re honest about it. Some years ago Paige suggested that I needed a hearing test. I went in for the test. Turns out I didn’t have a hearing problem. Mine was a listening problem! How many times have you shot off a statement (in person or online) without full information and later would give a king’s ransom to take it back, or better, never to have said it!?

Which brings us back to that word, “listen.” Merriam-Webster gives a deeply meaningful definition;  to hear something with thoughtful attention : give consideration. I must confess; too many times I do not listen with thoughtful attention. Nearly always it gives me misery. Jesus often told his followers to “listen” —as in Matthew 15;  It is not what goes into a man’s mouth that makes him common or unclean. It is what comes out of a man’s mouth that makes him unclean.”

The Book of James pulsates with caution about overuse/misuse of the Tongue. Reminds me of an old quip—It is obvious that God meant for us to listen more than to speak; He gave us two ears and one mouth. Ronald Reagan said, Trust, but verify; it can virtually stop disinformation in its tracks. I would add Listen, Trust, but verify.