The Long and Winding Road

They say that the two things you are not supposed to talk about are politics and religion.  First off, I believe that they are wrong.  Second off, here we go.

Politics is a Greek word “politikos” meaning of, for, and relating to citizens. And Wiki says that politics is “achieving and exercising positions of governance-organized control over a human community.”  Politics is the manner in which humanity is governed.  There are many kinds of political systems.  A republic, a democracy, socialist, monarchy, a dictatorship.  But they all determine and decide how we should live.  It affects everyone who lives under such rule.

Religion is a person beliefs and worship.  The definition is “people’s beliefs and opinions concerning the existence, nature, and worship of a deity or deities.  They are personal beliefs or values that someone lives by.

So, now that we have got that out of the way, it seems to me that politics and religion pretty much affect our lives as humans.  Everybody lives under some type of government and everybody lives under their own personal beliefs or values. 

It seems, in that sense, all of us are involved, and if we refrain from speaking politics and religion, then the only thing left to discuss is the weather.  How trivial and stale is that?  Boring.  Pardon me if I do not play along but I am quite capable of discerning the weather by myself.  If I need to know, I will step outside, and figure it out.  Sunny, windy, rainy, cold, snowy, stormy.  Yeah, I got this one.

Society, the ones based upon politics and religion, can be weak or strong.  They can show off the best of humanity, or sadly, the worst.  Great ones, ones with morals and good values, and those that tend to last, are those that display the following trait.  But first. . .

Our church went to a senior assisted living facility for our annual Christmas caroling and gift giving program.  We have been doing it for a few years now.  We arrive right after lunch as the residents are still in the cafeteria.  As I peer into the faces of thirty or forty people who are advanced in age and need some sort of help with their daily routine, I see not who they used to be, but all I notice is weakness.

For most of them, they are close to the end of their journey, and their contribution level to the rest of society is miniscule.  Now, before you begin to throw stones at me, hear me out.  There are societies and movement who see no value or purpose in the weak.  I am reminded of the former Colorado governor who said that the elderly, if they have a terminal illness have "a duty to die and get out of the way.  Let the other society, our kids, build a reasonable life." He is now 78.  I wonder how he is feeling.

I am getting to know a fifteen year old boy who has huge disabilities and his mental age may be around three. And he needs help with a lot of things and his parents will be caring for him all of their lives.  What will his legacy be?

Recently another country’s government voted 50-17 to extend euthanasia to children with disabilities in certain circumstances.  It also extends the right to request euthanasia for adults with dementia.  Many people call this the right to die.  It is a hot topic currently and there are those on both sides of the issue.  But the thing that both sides can agree on is that death is involved.

I’m a life guy.  M preference when it comes to hard choices is to side on the side of life.  I’m really not for the death of anyone, be it the unborn, children with disabilities, the elderly, and those in prison.  I’m just not.  I know all of the arguments on all of the issues concerning all of the sides, and I certainly haven’t had to personally wrestle with them in the midst of the circumstance, so my thoughts have yet to be tested, but that is where I stand.

But back to the trait that societies who possess them tend to last.  It is not how strength is dealt with; rather it is how those who are the weakest in society are dealt with and how they are treated.  Are they cared for?  Are they treated with respect?  Are they protected since they cannot protect themselves?  Do we see their value to exist?

When a society begins to discount life that seems useless, wasted, or a strain on the status quo, that society is destined to deteriorate.  All are valuable.  All have worth. All contribute.  And we must care.   Even if it means more work for us.  Even if it costs us something, so be it.  He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother.

The Confession

Since September my son has been going to a pre-K class.  We decided that he needed to develop some skills in the social behavior area.  You know, like sitting, doing work, sharing with others.  He is so active that it is hard for him to stay focused.  If we could only harness his energy.

His school is out of a Foursquare church in the town eight miles away.  It is a small class of seven children in the late fours and early fives age range.  We thought it would be the right size for him.  When I called to inquire about it the teacher said that they learned their numbers, alphabet, math, sound of the consonants and vowels, learning to read small words, some crafts, and the Bible.

 It all sounded good and as I was reciting back to the teacher about what they would be learning, se again emphasized, “I want you to understand that we will be talking about the Bible.”  To which I said, “I am counting on that.”

Even though we would have to pay as it is a private school, the cost is worth it, because we want it to be a good successful experience for him.  And it seems to be working well for him.  He is still quite energetic which at times keeps him from finishing his work.  As his teacher told us, “He has a brilliant mind and his thoughts and creativity are going a mile a minute.  I liken him to a great chemist or physicist who has to remember to stay in the room.”

On the first day, picking him up from school we asked him how it went.  Our five year old said, “Awesome.”  And we knew that was the truth as he has wanted to go to school for about a year and a half. 

So, buddy, did you make any friends?”  “Oh, yes!”  And he proceeded to name off his fellow classmates who all had normal names.  And then he said, “And there is my friend Omelet.”  Even though we live in a community known for its liberalness and interesting characters, we were pretty sure he had gotten the name wrong.  The boy’s name did start with an O, but for the sake of anonymity and for the fun of the story, we’ll just call him Omelet.

I picked my son up from school the other day and was greeted by his words.  “Hi, Omelet hit me in the face.”  And he did have a red mark on his cheek just below the eye. The teacher said,  “Yes, but we are going to sit down and discuss it.”

Teacher:           “I. where is your chair?”

I:                      “Over there.” (pointing to his left)
Teacher:           “And Omelet, where is your chair?”
O:                    “Over there.”  (pointing to the right)
Teacher:           “So, here is where I am having a hard time.  O. if you were sitting in your chair over there, and you I. were sitting in your chair over here, how is it that you could hit him and how is it that you could have gotten hit?  The chairs are pretty far apart.  If you were sitting where you are supposed to be, I can’t understand how you reach him.”

And good old Omelet replied as he outstretched his arms, said, “It was easy, I have really long arms.”  And busted.  Good old Omelet, grinning away with “egg on his face.”

Sometimes the Title is True

I started my blog in July of 2010, right before I was going to quit my job and stop, at least for awhile, working in off-price retail management.  It was also as I wrote “an attempt to take a risk and live out in faith." 

The title of my blog is Sometimes the Grass is Greener.  It is a play off of the phrase “the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence”.  This means, as you know, that we naively assume that someone else’s life, someone else’s world is better than our life or situation in which we find ourselves. If only I were on the other side of the fence, or if I had what they had, then all “my trials Lord, soon be over.”

But as soon as we are on the other side and look back, there seems to be this optical illusion of sorts, and all of a sudden our former grass appears to be a sharper shade of green than we had previously thought. It becomes an exercise in futility, of coveting other people’s stuff and world and we end up living in an atmosphere of excuses, raw deals and not being content with what has been unfairly forced upon us in our little corner of the universe.

But my friends, sometimes the grass is greener.  It just is.  Not from a coveting standpoint, not from a yearning standpoint, or from non-contentment, but from an objective look at reality.  Sometimes the grass is greener.  It then gives clarity into certain situations, scenarios, and circumstances.  And now for my revelation.

It is the day after Thanksgiving, the morning after to be exact.  We are spending the holiday with my wife’s brother at his house in the city.  Not a huge city as it is only about 150,000 in population; and also it is the place where we lived before moving to the little town on the coast.

I like living on the coast.  There are many reasons for that, but the main one is pretty obvious.  We live a block from the Pacific Ocean.  So that’s pretty cool.  The town itself likes to be called a village and has 700 residents.  We have one little grocery market, used to have a gas station, but it closed recently.  There are just a few shops and one flashing yellow light

There is a lot that the town lacks when it comes to amenities.   To shop at a department store (Walmart or Fred Meyer) one has to drive twenty-five miles to the next decent small coastal town.  That also goes for the nearest hospital.  But for whatever this village doesn’t have, it does have the Pacific Ocean, so there you go.

Here I am at 7:30 in the morning, and while everybody is sleeping, I grab my coffee and step outside of my brother-in-law’s house and onto a city block.  There is some frost on the ground, trees, and cars.  There are houses to the left, houses to the right, and houses on the other side of the street.

I am watching cars drive by and as I take a few steps down the sidewalk I hear the whistle of a train, a couple of police sirens, the neighbors outside having an early morning conversation before they head out shopping.

Looking down the street, I can see the signs and lights of local businesses.  And as all of this imagery hits me full in the face, I realize I am witnessing the hustle and bustle of living.  Don’t see that much in my town.

It is interesting that most people travel to the coast and especially to the village where I live in order to get away from the city life, the rat race, the populous of people.  And that is certainly understandable.

There is a calm, a slowness of everyday experience at the coast.  The long walks on the beach, the reading of a good book relaxing on an Adirondack, and even running to the little marker for some last minute groceries.  At our market the selection is easy.  You either buy the item or you don’t.  There is no deciding between like products, it is this one or nothing. Then there is the stroll to the only ice cream shop for a double scoop of Tillamook’s finest and then a slow jaunt to wherever or nowhere.  Ah, this is the life.

But, the city, as I absorb all of it at once, I miss it.  And it is because of the people.  Not necessarily the people that I know.  It’s just the people.  And every time that I see someone, I am reminded of how much my God loves them.  I don’t know them, and I have never seen them before, and I may never see them again, but I see their need, I see their loneliness, I see their poor decisions that have beaten them to the ground.  I see the resigned unhappiness that is their life, and I hold in my heart and head the answer, the solution, the cure.  Jesus.

There are people in need everywhere.  I know that.  Whether it is in my town of 700 or in his city of 150,000 people have the same ache.  It is just more pronounced in a larger city where anonymity is the rule and not the exception.  In a small town, everybody knows you and your business, whether you wish them to or not.

Dwight Moody, the great evangelist, when he felt the need to go to London to present the gospel was asked this, “Why go there when there is need here?”  His reply was, “I go where I can do the most good.  That is what I am after.  It is souls I want – it is souls I want.”  Why did he want to go to London?  That was where the people were.

Sometimes the grass is greener.