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Wednesday, January 15, 2003

It will be hard to forget some of the most heartbreaking images of the end of the 20th Century - like those tens of thousands of Kosovo refugees fleeing from the attacks of Serbian soldiers and police. Day after day, we would hear reports on the news of how many more refugees had arrived on the Albanian or Macedonian border, how many were jammed into makeshift camps, desperate for food, for water, for shelter, for a feeling of being human again. Most of the major networks had correspondents on the scene who would report from that sea of humanity and misery. In a moment of disarming honesty, one reporter said, "When you cover a tragedy like this, you have to put up a steel wall to protect yourself or you can't do your job." But then he went on to say, "But I have to confess to you, suddenly today my steel wall came down and I just lost it."

Tuesday, January 14, 2003

Their name calls up some of the most breathtaking spectacles in circus history - the Great Wallendas! This world famous circus troupe has amazed circus-goers with their high wire act for oh, about three generations. I was interested to read in Decision Magazine about Tino Wallenda's commitment to Jesus Christ. Tino described what he's done for a living - walking on a cable that is 5/8ths of a inch thick, suspended between 30 and 100 feet in the air, at times suspended over dens of lions, between buildings and even over a pool of sharks! This is not what I want to be when I grow up! Tino said his grandfather, Karl Wallenda, started him out on a wire just two feet off the ground. He taught Tino how to hold his body rigid and how to place his feet on the wire and how to hold the pole with his elbows close to his body. But this great performer writes that "the most important thing that my grandfather taught me was that I needed to focus my attention on a point at the other end of the wire; a point that was unmoving and would not shift."

Monday, January 13, 2003

I think it was our son's first official date with a girl - actually, just a couple of hours at the mall, really. The next day he ran into some of the guys from school who only wanted to know one thing about his Friday night. "So how much did you get off her?" They weren't talking about money. They were talking about conquest. He came home pretty disgusted, frankly. He said, "Man, those guys; they're messed up!"

Wednesday, January 8, 2003

Well, we've been wrong. Yeah, our science books tell us that there are 100 billion galaxies. We look at our Milky Way, and we see the one galaxy we're in. We're all excited because we've been able to get an unmanned spacecraft to the edge of our solar system! Wow. Our solar system is just one small part of our one galaxy - and they're telling us now that there are 100 billion more. Well, actually, not 100 billion more. We've been misled. See, the Hubble telescope has supplied new information. No, there aren't 100 billion galaxies, after all. There are 125 billion galaxies! Don't even try to comprehend it.

Monday, January 6, 2003

When three American soldiers were held as prisoners in Yugoslavia during the Kosovo crisis, their loved ones in the United States tied yellow ribbons around the trees in front of their homes. We've seen yellow ribbons before when loved ones are being held prisoner. I think my first recollection of seeing them was during the Iran hostage crisis when the American embassy staff in Iran was held hostage for many months. Now, the people who loved those being held hostage tied these yellow ribbons around the trees in their yards - and they wouldn't take them down. The yellow ribbons were a symbol of their hope that the one they loved would be back home. And when those hostages finally did come home, man, there were yellow ribbons everywhere!

Monday, December 23, 2002

It was Christmas Eve - our family was acting out the Christmas Story in our living room. Our daughter was in her bathrobe, portraying Mary. Our five-year-old son was Joseph, also appearing in bathrobe. His little brother was, of course, Baby Jesus, lying in a laundry basket. And I was, appropriately, an angel - sitting on the back of the couch. My wife - well, she was under a sheepskin, crawling around the floor saying, "Baaa." And the doorbell rang. It was two teenagers we worked with in our outreach program. They had left home because everyone there was acting weird due to too much alcohol. And they weren't sure that we were any better off! But we invited them to come on in and join us in the Christmas Story.

Friday, December 20, 2002

Boomer. That was the name of the bully in my neighborhood when I was just a little feller. This terrorist "wannabe" would pick on us, intimidate us, even steal my White Sox stuff. And we never stood a chance - he was big, at least compared to us. But one day I'd had enough. I went where none of us ever dared go - right to Boomer's door to get my stuff back. You say, "What a brave little guy you were." Well - there's one little detail I left out. My father went with me. And that made all the difference! Boomer was bigger than I was - but my father was bigger than Boomer was!

Tuesday, December 17, 2002

Parade time in our town, it's always a fun time, comes several times a year - and it's especially fun when you go with two young grandsons, which I have the privilege of doing. They love the fire engines and the siren going off. They love the marching bands and the floats, the candy ... especially the candy. A lot of the folks on the floats, on the trucks and in the cars throw out these big handfuls of candy. As it skips across the pavement, children descend on it like locusts descending on a wheat field. It disappears fast! I've learned to go to the parade with empty pockets. The boys scoop up the candy and I am their personal candy bank. And, of course, I do collect a small tax in the process!

Friday, December 13, 2002

The last time I was at a theme park, I ended up on one of the longest lines they had. It was the line for those little "Grand Prix" racing cars. All of us, I mean all of those kids wanted to get on that little race track and pretend we, uh, they were a race car driver. It's fun, but it's fantasy. Oh yes, there's an accelerator, but your speed is pretty much limited no matter how much your floor it. Oh yes, there's a steering wheel - you can turn it - but your turning is totally limited to the track they have your car on. Sure, you can hug that wheel and stomp that accelerator, but the sorry truth is this: you don't have control of that thing!

Wednesday, December 11, 2002

Marathon man! That's me when we're driving a long trip. I want to get there, and I like to drive, so we just keep barreling. Just ask my kids about when they were little. They knew we only stopped when the gas tank was nearly empty. They might say, "No, he wasn't marathon man. He was psycho man!" Well, I have to wonder if I would stop at all if the car didn't have to. You know, cars are like that. They just have to stop for refueling. Cars don't run forever. Neither do we.

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