words of John Wesley:
“Do all the good you can,
By all the means you can,
In all the ways you can,
In all the places you can,
At all the times you can,
To all the people you can,
As long as ever you can.”
the POWER of GOOD
Can we still Be Kind
My friend, Carol in Sunbury, Pennsylvania, mentioned an occurrence of signs popping up on the streets of her town which simply urge “BE KIND”.
My friend, Jim, lamented that people, i.e., the world, are so UNKIND. Indeed, Jim’s assessment is backed by news headlines and social/political commentary on the media outlets.
Another friend confided in me a few months ago that she and her boyfriend are taking their relationship to the next level. (Hope they are taking an elevator. Folks our age can’t be wasting time). She also commented that she will always remember me as a gentle, KIND man. Coward’s way of saying, “You are no longer in contention for my man of the year award.”
Gentle?? I have no choice. I am old and fragile; I have to be gentle.
Kind? That’s a matter of definition and opinion. We should talk about it, shouldn’t we?
Nothing defines ‘kind’ better than a passage from 1 Corinthians, chapter 13. I’m sure you know it well.
Verses 4-8 tell us that kindness is love:
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.
Considering the events in Buffalo and Uvalde, is it time to cast aside love and kindness, shut off our media devices to keep the images of terror and hatred outside our realm of reality hoping to protect ourselves from the unimaginable pain and horror? Should we hide away behind closed doors in fear and distrust, turn off that part of us that thrives on love and patience, kindness and truth?
We would like to think, “Yes, I can do that.”
But we deceive ourselves if we try to do that. That is not whom we were designed to be.
As children of a magnanimous God, we have been created to also be magnanimous, to be generous and noble, not petty in conduct or in thought. We have been blessed with the courage to face darkness and ugliness and have been given the tools to confront the wrongs of our society whether that which is wrong is social injustice, poverty or murder of children. We have been saved from our own personal hells, our personal treks through darkness.
I was given a new life, a restoration, a reclamation when I said, “My name is Larry, I am an alcoholic.”
And it was all by grace, an unmerited and undeserved gift of a power greater than myself which even today I cannot define or understand. That’s how it is supposed to be – a mystery which I trust will be revealed when I leave this physical plane of existence.
But there is a price to pay for this gift. 1 Corinthians 13:4-8 names this price. This is what God expects of me when times are tough, when minds are frazzled, when hatred wants to take center stage, when human understanding fails.
We can have our temper tantrums, we can scream at the trees, we can swear revenge. But in the end, we will resume our civic duties to turn the tide on violence and hatred and we will return to the love and kindness that floods the darkness with light.
That’s God’s way and that’s the path of sober living.
SOBER TODAY? GIVE YOURSELF AND YOUR HIGHER POWER A HAND.
teacher Marion
When I was in 5th grade at Leck Kill Elementary School, my teacher was Marion, my grandmother’s sister-in-law. Much to my amazement during one of her classes, Marion declared in response to a classmate’s answer to a question, “I’m from Missouri, I don’t believe that. Prove it!”
I was astonished because, as far as I could determine at that young age, all my relatives were native born Pennsylvanians, all of German heritage. Troubled for the rest of the day I made Marion the primary topic of discussion at the supper table with my family.
“Why no, Marion is from Trevorton (a nearby town), ” responded my mother and grandmother, “why would she say that?”
When confronted by her lie, Marion laughed while explaining the meaning of Missouri, the ‘show me state.’ Lesson to be learned was this: don’t believe anything alleged, whispered, declared as truth or seen without ample proof. And even then, ask questions.
Applying this to my recovery, to my commitment to sober living and to the entirety of my faith walk, I would like to believe that when I walked into the rooms of my first AA meeting, listened to the people tell their stories, and wished for the sobriety which they had, I thought, “Yes, this is for me, this is what I want, this is something I can do.”
But that would be a lie. I was a scared drunk simply wanting relief from a life which had put me on the doorstep of suicide. I did not know what I wanted. I was 34 years old feeling like an old man with nothing to live for. And I certainly did not believe that I could do what these sober alcoholics had done…..5, 10, 15 years of sobriety and they had survived without the crutch of alcohol which had carried me for so many years.
“Lord, I can’t do this,” I cried out when I left the meeting and returned home.
“Yes, you can, and here is how you will do it. Surrender your life to me and turn it over to my care.”
“But, Lord, you don’t know. The things I have done, the people I have hurt, the heartaches I have caused those who love me. You just don’t know.”
“I do know. And even so, I never stopped loving you. You are one of my Father’s children. Walk with me. ‘One day at a time’, ‘easy does it’, ‘let go and let God’…..it’s all there in the meeting rooms.”
Yes, those damned placards on the walls attempting to encourage me. Many nights, I sat quietly listening to others share their stories staring at the sayings on the walls while continuing to think, “Lord, I can’t do this.”
Those nights turned into years until finally through faith in a Higher Power, I realized that “Lord, I can’t” turned into “Lord, by your grace, I will.”
In a nutshell that’s my story and it can be yours also. There are no secrets to sobriety. Walk by faith as long as necessary until you can say, “Yes Lord, I will.”
And you are asking, “Larry, what does teacher Marion have to do with this story?”
Show me; prove it; I don’t believe it. Some of us are sicker than others and some of us need to live by faith until we can see clearly the promises of sobriety.
2 Corinthians 5:7 “We live by faith not by sight.”
It’s what I have to do
Second only to politicians, we alcoholics are probably the most selfish people I have ever known. Not that I know many politicians (thankfully), but I have met and loved a number of alcoholics in my lifetime.
They, and I include myself, seem to be lacking the gene that turns off the “I” button and concentrates more on the “you” default. Was it environment, upbringing, mental deficiency or truly a physical and emotional condition that laid waste to so many of our years while maturing?
Please note I said maturing and did not say while growing up because many of us just never grew up. We stayed in that age group when we first began our careers in alcoholism, that age group when our peers were educating themselves, raising families, focusing on relationships, starting careers…….yeah, getting responsible for themselves. Some of us missed out on those milestones in life and, unfortunately, never caught up to the rest of our siblings and friends.
So, is it too late now? Oh, hell no. We just have to try harder, put in more effort, appreciate sober-living more than most because sobriety is not a lifestyle for wimps. It takes great courage to turn it over to a Higher Power every day thus giving up control of our lives. It takes great courage to surrender it all to an entity which most of us cannot or will not define in the terms of this world.
What are your stumbling blocks? What were mine? We discovered them in our 4th Step inventory and, shared them with another person and with God as we understood God. And we did not stop there. Sober time convinced us that more inventories, more thoroughly exhaustive were necessary, more honest maybe.
It didn’t all happen in one day, it was not a ‘once and done’ effort. Meeting after meeting, night after night with a sponsor, sharing when sharing was difficult and uncomfortable, thinking of others when that was still unnatural – it all finally led to a moment of epiphany, that breakthrough when we could say with heartfelt thanks, “there but for the grace of God go I.”
No, it was not an easy path. But, we had no choice, did we? The alternatives were jail, a mental institution or death. It’s been years since Day One for me, but I must reaffirm my decision to follow sober-living everyday. I have no choice, do you?
If you’re sober today, give yourself and your HigherPower a hand.
CASTING CROWNS
THERE WILL BE NO SUCH THING AS BROKEN
For Mom and Dad
you live on in the best of me
Uncle Willard
A front-page story in my local newspaper today detailed the DUI/manslaughter charges against a 38-year-old man in a nearby community. His life undoubtedly changed forever when he opted to get behind the wheel of his pickup truck and drive drunk. The driver of the car he hit head-on is dead, several others in another involved vehicle are injured.
1966-1968 were my hell-raising years. A college drop-out pumping gas at a local Gulf station, I was entirely rudderless. My day consisted of working my 3-12 shift, getting together with buddies after work, buying a couple six packs at a bar which accepted my bogus ID (I was 18 and the legal age in Pennsylvania was 21) and heading out to a few favorite spots in the woods where we weren’t bothered by the law. We all thought we were so cool, and we thought we were having fun. Didn’t matter that I lived about 25 miles from my party spots, and I had to drive frantically to get home before daylight when Grandpa got up to start the farm chores. Mom had already left for work and several times we passed on the winding country road leading to my home. Several ‘alcohol – related’ mishaps did not deter me from my nightly adventures.
Nobody could talk any sense to me, “Aww hell”, I would lament, “just out with buddies having a few beers.”
In later years with a bit of sobriety behind me, I was told that angels were riding with me on those tire-screeching, engine-roaring trips back to the house. “No,” I replied, “it was God Himself riding with me, my angels were too scared.”
So, you are asking what this has to do with my Uncle Willard. First let me say that the front-page story in the Sunbury Daily Item back in 1966-68 could have been a story with my name and my picture detailing the underaged drinking and DUI/manslaughter charges against a good boy just having a few beers with his buddies,
Uncle Willard was one of 10 children, my father Paul being the oldest. Due to family dysfunction, I did not meet Willard until one summer afternoon as I was finishing up on chores behind the barn. I was probably 18 years old. A car drove by, the driver tooted its horn and then turned around and returned to park along the highway. The man who emerged was unknown to me.
He civilly introduced himself as “Willard, your dad’s brother. I’m your uncle.” (No, at age 17-18 I did not know any of my father’s family). “I heard you wrecked your car last week, are you OK? “
He then proceeded into an ass-chewing that would have made any Army drill sergeant or Navy petty officer proud. Attaboy, Willard, you tell it how it is. I was speechless, but I knew dang well that I deserved every word and more.
He had his say, shook my hand, patted me on the back saying, “Straighten up, son, before you kill someone.”
That’s my Uncle Willard story – the only time we ever spoke.
O Come, O come, Emmanuel
“Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son and will call him Immanuel.” Isaiah 7: 14
Immanuel – God with us
The year 2020 has given to us innumerable opportunities to grow in faith and commitment to that way of life which we know to be right and true. This moral compass is known by many names. During the Christmas season “Immanuel” is celebrated as the North Star of our compass.
Feast of St. Francis
“Many churches in the United States celebrate the Feast of St Francis of Assisi on October 4 each year. The feast commemorates the life of St Francis, who was born in the 12th century and is the Catholic Church’s patron saint of animals and the environment. It is a popular day for pets to be “blessed”.
Does one need to be Catholic or a professor of any faith walk to appreciate the life of St. Francis of Assisi? Francis grew up privileged in a wealthy family, enjoyed partying with his young friends, got in trouble as revilers will, decided to prove his manhood by enlisting in the efforts of the Crusades, apparently met his God while riding off to battle and returned to follow a life of supplication and poverty. His dedication to the plight of the disadvantaged, his embrace of simplicity and his love for the environment are highlights of many historical accounts. Our contemporary Franciscan order replicates the lives of Francis and Clare of Assisi.
Fast forward to 2020 and the chaos facing Americans in choosing a President. On one hand we have President Trump, apparently bolstered by numerous religious leaders proclaiming he has been sent by God to save America, holding a bible in front of St. John’s Church threatening to use military troops against protesters . Counter that with the image of Joe Biden, a practicing Catholic, paying respects to Justice Ginsburg lying in state at the Capitol. Among many Christian denominations, crossing one’s self while quietly repeating, “In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost”, is indicative of that person’s belief in the Holy Trinity. Joe Biden bowed his head, crossed himself and moved on with wife Jill at his side.
Which scenario gives us comfort? Which visual image fortifies our trust in the faith walk of the man who will become President on November 3rd? To those naysayers who would comment that religion and politics should not mix, I must agree. But, a person’s declaration of faith is of ultimate importance. A man who promotes violence and discord cannot be a man of Christian values. Holding up a Bible while urging the military to move in on civil protest would not be the course of action Jesus emphasized.
So, if you profess Christianity, if you proclaim to be a follower of Jesus, which are you – a Jesus follower or a fake Christian? This is another reason I will vote the Biden/ Harris ticket on November 3rd. It has nothing to do with my religion or God beliefs. It is all about the one who attempts to deceive us.
You love me anyway🙏
I find it difficult today to feel loved because my heart is not one of empathy or sympathy surrounding the health crisis enveloping the Administration. This post was written 5 months ago, a reader put a like on it today and I had to review it to remember my words. THANK YOU readers for making blogging more heart work than brain work.
Have I denied,
have I abandoned,
have I blasphemed,
have I lied,
have I been the prodigal,
have I been Judas,
have I been Peter,
have I driven the nails,
have I been the mocking crowd?
YES, BUT YOU LOVE ME ANYWAY
I am the thorn in Your crown
But You love me anyway
I am the sweat from Your brow
But You love me anyway
I am the nail in Your wrist
But You love me anyway
I am Judas’ kiss
But You love me anyway
lyrics from SIDEWALK PROPHETS
Leonard Cohen
So many of us have lived our lives placing unmerited value on the opinions of others while discrediting our personal truth and reality. Breaking the shackles of people-pleasing requires honest self-appraisal, a healthy dose of self-esteem, and an enormous commitment to self-realization.
….as near as the destination may be, it’s still the journey that matters….
“For the millions in a prison
That wealth has set apart—
For the Christ who has not risen,
From the caverns of the heart
For the innermost decision
That we cannot but obey
For what’s left of our religion,
I lift my voice and pray;
May the lights in the land of Plenty
Shine on the truth someday.”
—Leonard Cohen
lpb - quest 