Breathing Under Water

I'm reading this devotional by Richard Rohr.  It's based on AA's twelve steps.  I've used several devotionals over the years based on the steps.  I like hard hitting devotionals.  If the devotional has a picture of puppy dogs or flowers on the front I'm probably not going to like it.  I like my devotionals down and dirty.

Rohr's book is based on a poem by Carol Bieleck.  I love the poem.  It's most likely about addiction.  I'm not dealing with addiction but I believe the poem is about me.

I'm a planner who likes to live a nice orderly life. I like to anticipate the future and get ready for it.  But then, bang, what was "over there" comes "right here." And  I find myself in a place I never though I'd be.

This year I need to learn how to be eighty.  And probably learn, once more, to breathe underwater.

I hope you'll read the poem.  It might be about you too.

Breathing Under Water by Carol Bieleck.

I built my house by the sea.

Not on the sands, mind you;

not on the shifting sand.

And I built it of rock.

A strong house

by a strong sea.

And we got well acquainted, the sea and I.

Good neighbors.

Not that we spoke much.

We met in silences.

Respectful, keeping our distance,

but looking our thoughts across the fence of sand. 

Always,  the fence of sand our barrier, 

always, the sand between. 

And then one day,

-and I still don't know how it happened-

the sea came. 

Without warning.

Without welcome, even

Not sudden and swift, but a shifting across the sand

   like wine,

less like the flow of water than the flow of blood.

Slow, but coming.

Slow, but flowing like an open wound. 

And I thought of flight and I thought of growing

   and I thought of death.

And while I thought the sea crept higher, till it

   reached my door.

And I knew then there was neither fight, nor death

   nor drowning.

That when the sea comes calling you stop being

    neighbors

Well acquainted, friendly-at-a-distance, neighbors

And you give your house for a coral castle,

And you learn to breathe underwater.


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A Scary Christmas Story

Last night we had dinner with family members.  My 30 year old grandson, whom I'm wild about, told us an interesting Christmas story.  Earlier in the day he dressed up as Santa Claus to take gifts to some of his clients.  This included the whole shebang; big red suit, hat and white beard.

Before visiting the clients, Santa went to the supermarket to purchase some items, then took them to his truck.  While loading them in the back he laid his wallet and phone on the truck bed.

Oh, oh, you know where this is going, don't you?

After driving a while he needed to make a phone call - but no phone.  And no wallet.  Where were they?  Santa headed back to the market, hoping and praying he'd left them where he checked out and the cashier had them.

But, of course, she didn't.

So he got back in the truck and tried to replace his steps.  Finally (and this is amazing) he saw the phone on the street, looking like it had been run over several times.  Santa stopped the truck in heavy traffic, jumped out and grabbed the phone.

Then he saw the wallet!

He grabbed it off the busy street, looked it over, but "oh, no,!" the contents (credit cards, driver's license and all of the essential things we carry in our wallets) where GONE!  It looked just like somebody had picked up the wallet, emptied it, and threw it away again.

So here Santa is standing in the middle of a busy street with his empty wallet.

But then, amazingly, almost magically, he could see a trail of cards blowing down the street.  And so, on foot, weaving in and out of traffic, he managed to find almost everything.

People are probably still talking about the crazy Santa on Highway 436.

It was a modern Christmas miracle that it all came together.  And here's an additional one.  His phone had a great protective case on it so it was working fine when he was telling us this story last night.

Merry Christmas.


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It's The Real Thing!

Did you know that, since 1930 Coca Cola has had 48 tag lines?  "It's the Real Thing" is from 1969. The current tag line is "Taste the Feeling."

When I was young I drank Coca Cola and loved it.  Later I drank Diet Coke.  Later still I drank Diet/Caffeine Free Coke.  Now I drink water or wine.  (These were Jesus' two favorite drinks.)

But we still keep Cokes in the fridge.  And it's a good thing because you never know when you'll need one.  We all know that Coke is good for cleaning your car battery and your hair and clogged drains. (But I'm not sure about washing my hair with something that's supposed to remove hair.  I've read that some veterinary offices pour Coke in their drains on Friday night and by Monday morning all the animal hair is gone!)  Coke helps get rid of lice.  And it's used at crime scenes to remove blood stains.

As you know, I love The People's Pharmacy.  Over the years they've reported that patients have had success using Coke for varied medical purposes - like getting rid of kidney stones and cleaning feeding tubes.

And now, just in time for the holidays, when we tend to wolf down big meals, readers are saying that Coke can save you when you have a big chunk of meat stuck in your throat.   Don't try it if you're choking and can't breathe.  Call 911 or have somebody "Heimlich" you.  But if the meat's down there in your esophagus and won't budge, take a drink of ice cold Coke.  The People's Pharmacy readers swear by it.  And even if it doesn't work, it's refreshing.


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No Time For Lemon Session

In high school, in the 50s, I was in one of those girl's clubs where it was common to have "Lemon Sessions."  One of the girls would sit in the middle of a circle and the others would each tell her things they didn't like about her.  It served no purpose and was petty and hurtful.  



I've been kind of glued to the TV the last couple of days listening to the Republicans and the Democrats come together to pay tribute to George Herbert Walker Bush.  I've loved every heart warming speech.  In hearing the love and adulation being poured out for President Bush, I've felt, for the first time in a while, that not only do these leaders truly care for him, but maybe they even care a little bit for me.

And I've felt myself caring for them.

I loved hearing Mike Pence tell about how President Bush, only a few short months ago, sent a note to the vice president's son, and how much it was appreciated.  I loved hearing Paul Ryan tell about how President Bush taught him how to campaign for office - one person at a time.

I loved President George W. Bush telling us what words his dad had for him when he was having difficulty in the White House.  The words were "I love you."

I loved seeing Bob Dole being lifted up from his wheelchair by his caregiver so that he could solute his commander-in-chief on last time.

I was even feeling concern last night for Dick Cheney when he was in obvious discomfort being interviewed by Wolf Blitzer in the freezing cold.

Don't get me wrong.  I have problems with all of these folks, including. President Bush.  He and I were not on the same page on many issues.  But now is not the time for criticism.  Now is the time for mourning and celebrating a great man.

The first half of Joshua Johnson's excellent PBS radio show, 1A. this morning was a discussion on the American Disabilities Act.  George H.W. Bush made that happen.  The second half was on the concept of whether or not the country should deal, this week, with both the good and bad he accomplished.  Should we remind people of his failures and flaws right now, along with the heart felt speeches?

I say no.  We need to mourn and celebrate.  Let's continue to have a national group hug at least through Wednesday.  We need it.  This is no time for a lemon session.


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