Making Music Approximately

September 30, 2016 "Wherever you go, a quarter note is a quarter note, the notes of the scales remain the same. Music truly is the universal language." Frank was commenting on the music theory lesson we had been struggling to get into our brains. A G7 diminished minor chord contains the same notes whether it's played in Uganda, Vienna, or here in Western New York. The instrumentation may vary, but the essence of the chord remains the same. I love making music, although it is difficult to say with a straight face that what I do with an instrument is making music. I hear beautiful sounds in my head, but somehow my fingers only get the message occasionally. Most of the time they are in a running argument with the sheet music. "Are you kidding me? You want us to hit all those notes at the right time without missing a beat?" Most of the time, my fingers win the argument while my brain just sighs. I suspect our conductor does a lot of sighing, too, in between repeated sips of wine. Growing up, my friends would sing along to the latest songs. They knew all the words. I knew the melodies, but in my mind the lyrics often went something like, "Brother Love's Traveling Salvation Show, La, La, La..." My grandkids sing along to today's songs just like my friends used to. At best, I hum. They have it on while studying. If I have the radio on while I'm trying to read, before I know it, my mind has wandered off task, following the musical rabbit trail in the background. I still have boxes of old LPs that I can't bring myself to get rid of, along with a small cabinet of CDs I haven't listened to in ages. But given the opportunity to put my hands to my bass, I'm ready to give it my best shot, which is what I'm sure some folks would like to do to me when I'm in a musical mode. The Bible says that at Creation, the morning stars sang together, and to this day, the Universe reverberates with waves of sound audible only to the angels and sophisticated electronic equipment. I like to think of music as the voice of God, and am grateful to be able to give voice even if imperfectly, to the Voice that is the source of all melody, harmony, and rhythm.

One Thing Right

September 29, 2016 There are many things wrong in this world, but there is also much good that goes unnoticed because it is so common and ordinary. Like the aroma wafting through our house today. This morning after breakfast with pastor Joe, I was able to pick nearly 40 gallons of grapes for my daughter before the rain came. And since it was raining, I wasn't able to do any of the outside work that's waiting for my attention, so I began processing the grapes I picked yesterday. It smells heavenly, and gives me great satisfaction to see the jars lined up on the counter. I haven't gotten halfway through them yet, but there's always tomorrow. Earth-shaking? Hardly. But as the writer of Ecclesiastes said, "Go your way, eat your bread with joy, and drink your wine with a merry heart; for God now accepts your works...Live joyfully with the wife whom you love all the days of thy life...for that is your portion in this life, and in your labor which you take under the sun." (9:7-9). There's a lot in this life that I cannot do, but this I can, and will.

Living Water

September 28, 2016 Wrong sized fitting. I'm not surprised. When told that connecting to the new water system would only take about a half hour, my response was, "That's not good. A fifteen minute job usually takes about three days, in my experience." I'm still hopeful that it won't be more than a couple hours, but already Tony had to go to Home Depot for the correct sized fitting. Then it has to be assembled and tested for leaks, both in the house and at the curb. Oh well; we're closer today than we were yesterday, and I've been in countries where a project like this would take weeks, just because the necessary materials weren't available at any price. That being said, I'm thankful to live where the water is safe to drink, where the supplies needed to tap into it are readily available, and where I have friends willing to help get us up and running. Flash update! After a 40 minute run to Home Depot, it appeared as if Tony had been given the wrong fitting again, but it turned out he had what he needed right from the start, so the extra run was for nought. All was connected, we went to the curb valve only to discover that the valve wrench wasn't long enough to reach through the extension casing on the new system. A little digging and unscrewing the extension exposed the valve, but its cover was offset so I had to dig some more and completely remove the casing before I could turn the valve. The sound of rushing water was glorious, and there were no leaks. It wasn't quite a half hour job, but it wasn't three days, either, which is reason enough to give thanks to God and Tony tonight. Jesus claimed to be the Living (or flowing) Water, and said that the Holy Spirit he would give would be a fountain springing up within us. Here in the Northeast, we tend to take water for granted, having the world's largest supply of fresh water in the Great Lakes, and enough rain to keep the wells filled most years. The creek behind our house never runs dry, but having it piped into the house is a luxury many cannot even imagine. The water is available, but I wonder what valves we have turned that keep it from filling our lives and homes with blessing. It is possible to stop the flow to our house, and it's possible to stop the flow of the Holy Spirit to our lives. I think it wouldn't be a bad idea to do a little run through the system to make sure all the valves are opened wide.

Thankfully Tired

September 27, 2016 I'm retired. Which means I'm working on getting old. I also got up at 4:00 this morning so I could be at the hospital in Erie for a friend who was having to have his foot amputated. After sitting with the family into the afternoon, I received a text message that the son of a good friend was in the emergency room of that same hospital, so I spent some time with him before heading home via my own doctor's office for a blood draw prior to a scheduled visit Wednesday. A quick dinner with Linda, men's Bible study, and finally home. It's 9:30, and I'm whipped. Too tired to watch the presidential debate, I'm going to bed. Maybe that's enough to be thankful for tonight.

Practical Christianity

September 26, 2016 Most of us aren't poor, but when I surveyed the crowd gathered, I didn't see anyone who could be considered rich, either. but on a Sunday afternoon when they could have been relaxing with family, watching the game, or getting in a few rounds of golf, they were sweating it out with a load of logs. Some weeks ago, our church purchased a semi-load of logs that have since been sitting on the side yard of the building. The cutting and splitting party scheduled a couple weeks ago had to be postponed, so today was the day. I didn't actually count noses, but there had to be twenty five to thirty men, women, and children cutting, splitting, and stacking wood. Six chainsaws, four wood splitters, three pickup trucks, and a trailer was all it took for these men and women in just a little over three hours to cut, split, and stack about twenty cord of wood. But the heart of the matter is that it will all be given away to people in need. Our people weren't doing their own wood; in fact, most of us have yet to get our own in. Instead, they were taking time that could well have been spent taking care of their own needs, and giving to people some of them have never even met. I am grateful to belong to a church that cares for their neighbors in practical and tangible ways. I am grateful to belong to a church that unlike most others I've seen, has so many young men who, in various stages of their walk with Christ, come together to serve him with eager gladness, without even a hint of "what's in it for me." I am grateful for the women who worked alongside us, to get the job done. And I'm grateful for the witness to the love of Christ that will be made when the weather turns cold and snowy and we have the ability to warm homes as well as hearts.

Sore

September 24, 2016 The only part of my body that doesn't hurt is the top of my head, ears, eyes, nose, throat. I guess I won't need to see a specialist. The guy came today to dig the trench for our new water line. He did a great job, nice and neat, even undercutting the gas line that runs across the property. I skipped writer's group and band to make sure I was available in case he ran into any problems, but things went smoothly until he got almost to the end. I showed him where the new shutoff valve was located, and hoped he would dig up close to it, but he refused to get that close to the line, so I had to dig the last three feet by hand. Five feet deep. I am sore. Linda came out periodically to check on me, worried she'd find me slumped over my shovel. I told her if I were, to just put the blade on the tractor and cover me up. It would save a lot of money. The last time she came out, Abi was with her. She asked me to quit for the night, but I wanted to get it done, and I knew if I stopped, I wouldn't be able to get started again. She tricked me; talked to me for about five minutes, and when I started up again, I just couldn't do it. I was out back unhitching the blade from the old 8N when Nate came walking across the lawn. He hopped on the back of the tractor and rode with me to the job site to look it over. Abi apparently was worried about me, too, and had mentioned something to her father. He examined the hole, declared that it was almost done, and he was going to finish it. Since it was dark, I drove the John Deere around to shine lights on the trench while he dug and chopped till the hole was wide enough to accommodate the line. Tonight I am sore; tomorrow I may have a hard time moving, but I am thankful for my son who after splitting wood for three hours, came over to help his father finish a difficult job.

Sunshine and Shadow

September 23, 2016 What if God's blessing were revealed not in the good things that come into our lives, but in the trials? I can't say as I'm going through any trial right now, but I have been there, and can say that just because everything seems to be going smoothly doesn't mean all is well. Lately, my Bible reading and prayers have felt flat-lined. As in nothing is happening. When I read, it feels like, "Yadda, yadda, yadda;" not something a preacher likes to admit. My prayers have been dull and listless, but things in my life right now are pretty copacetic. Last summer when granddaughter Alex got sick while in Africa, my prayers seethed with fire! I was assaulting heaven continually, fighting as St. Paul said, "the good fight of faith." I scoured the Scriptures for a word from the Lord indicating that all would be well, and stood toe to toe with my doubts and fears till they finally cowered in submission. It wasn't the good times that drove me to my knees and opened the door to God's provision. The blessing came through the trial. So tonight as I lay down to sleep in peace, I remember the trials and ask for the grace of remembrance that will humble me to seek Christ as diligently in the sunshine as in the shadow. And I will praise him as well when I walk by his side on land as I will when he bids me step out of the boat to walk on water in the midst of the storm.