Answering The Call

Back in March of 1979, I had a team playing in the state championship game.  It was a terrific group of kids.  They were hardworking, never ever quit, hard-nosed- you name it, they were all of that.  They were also young.  That year, I graduated five seniors, three of whom started.  In that particular game, it was close.  As I recall, we were up by three, maybe four points in the third quarter, and then my “star” picked up his fourth foul.  We had one quarter and some quarter to go.  My “star” was my leading scorer, second on the team in rebounds.  He led from the free throw line.  He was second in assists.  He was my acknowledged leader.  Naturally, I made the decision to pull him until we absolutely needed him, sometime in the fourth quarter.  I couldn’t shake the feeling that our season might come to an abrupt end.  But because I was the coach and because the kids looked up to me, I put on my brave face.  Heck, in that particular case, appearance was everything.

I pulled a sophomore from the bench to take the “star’s” place.  Rod would never be considered a “star” by any stretch of anyone’s imagination.  Quiet, unassuming, Rod was the type of guy who was the epitome of the definition of “role player.”

All Rod did during the stretch that the “star” was on the bench was grab two crucial defensive rebounds, snare an offensive rebound and put it back up for a score, block two shots, and collected one steal.  He could have folded.  The team could have folded.  After all, we were a young team.  My point guard, another sophomore and the brother of the “star” kept the team together.  Yet another sophomore picked up the scoring slack.

Answering The Call.

I have a nephew, Rick, a fireman who is also an EMT.  Doesn’t matter about the weather.  Doesn’t matter about the time of day.  When there is a call, Rick and his team are on the run to the rescue.  My wife, Kim, knew from the fifth grade that she wanted to teach Physical Education.  Just knew it.  It was her dream.  Her love.  And, that’s what she does even now, oh so many years later.  I have teachers in my building who spent 40 plus years standing in front of kids teaching their craft.  Many of those same teachers, and other teachers who are nowhere near 40 years in front of a classroom, are teaching way beyond the “curriculum” and teach life, and teach love, and teach service to others, and teach and offer hope.

Answering The Call.

Noah had a decision to make according to the story.  Build a big ol’ boat and collect the animals.  I imagine that his neighbors ridiculed him.  Called him names.  Probably thought he was a tad crazy.  Jonah tried to run and hide, ignoring his call.  Legend says that he was swallowed and spewed up on shore.  Now frankly, getting swallowed is one thing, getting spewed out is quite another.  Eventually, he went and did what he was supposed to do in the first place.

Answering The Call.

I think each of us has a calling.  I think each of us is called.  Some are called to great and glorious things.  Some are called to do routine things that perhaps aren’t noticed without an untrained eye.  Those are the ones who make the world . . . our world . . . go round and round.  They are the ones who help us to function, who play a significant part, yet who sometimes go unnoticed. 

Answering The Call.

Some are called heroes.  Some just go about their business, their work, spend their time.  Some are happy.  Some, well, not so much.  Some happily Answered Their Call, while others chose a different path and answered a different call.  We’ve all answered one call or another.  Each of us.  Each of us don our work clothes, grab our lunch pail, and set about to do the work we signed up for.  Each of us.  We’re all a part of it, you and me, and the others.  One no better, one no less than the other.  Each of us . . . all of us . . . Answered The Call.  The Call of Life.  Something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

Life Comes In Waves

We’ve not had a full week of school since I don’t remember when, all due to snow and ice and freezing temperatures.  The most recent days off were Thursday and Friday of this week.  And Kim and I moved here thinking that we’d be out of the snow and cold.  Ha!  Not hardly!

Dutifully, Kim, Emily and I would traipse out to the driveway dressed like we lived in Alaska, drag our shovels, and start digging away.  Takes quite a bit of time, but with three of us working at it, it gets done.  Aches and pains and feeling every bit of my years, I pop Ibuprofen like Skittles.

Then, it snows again.

So, out we go again, this time minus Emily, and Kim and I dig and shovel.  This time the snow banks are a little higher, so we have to carry the shovel-full a bit further and throw it higher.

Then, the plow comes along and seals up the end of the driveway with more snow, and this time, delivers icy chunks.

So, out we go yet again.

Doesn’t seem to end.  Looking at the ten day forecast, more to come, only we don’t have any clue how much.

And I’m sure, out we’ll go again.

Kind of like life.  Both the good and the bad hit us, batter us, challenge us, and we either step up with our shovels or retreat until it melts?  Goes away?  Is no more?

Life Comes In Waves.

There isn’t ever one snow storm.  There are many.  There is never just one wave.  There are many.  And like waves, or snow, or rainy days, they keep coming, just as the sunny days and the warm weather keep coming.

Life Comes In Waves.

As many warm days as there are, there will be cool or cold days.  As many sunny days as there are, there will be cloudy and rainy days.

As many happy moments as there are in our lives, there will be days of disappointment, even sadness.  As many days of smiles as there are in our lives, there will be days of tears.  And as many days in our lives where there are no worries, there will be days where we fret over things big and small.  As many days as there are when we feel life’s riches can’t shower us any further, there will be days when it feels like we are in a drought, when the river . . . our life . . . is dry.

Life Comes In Waves.

Mountain peaks and valleys.  Wave crests and troughs.  Sunshine and rain.  Warm weather and cold.  Days when we feel on top of the world, and days when we feel so very down that we cannot go any further.  Life comes in waves.  Happy and sad and all the in betweens.  Life Comes In Waves.  Something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

Feed The Wolf

Our dog, Bailey, eats the way our previous Golden Retriever, Sherlock used to eat:  a lot in a little amount of time.  Not only does Bailey eat from the bowl, but she will place her food neatly on the carpet near her bowl and eat it one small piece at a time.  At other times, Bailey decides to dine out.  She’ll take pieces of food to a different room, appropriately our dining room, and eat it there.  Odd and funny and a bit bewildering.

For many years now, I’ve fallen in love with the Navajo people.  I enjoy their rich history.  I enjoy the stark beauty of the American Southwest, specifically the Navajo Indian Reservation in Northeastern Arizona.  I even have a few books on their fables and stories, their lore, their customs, and their traditions.  In my favorite room in our house, I have the walls dappled with Navajo art and artifacts.

The Navajo people have a saying: “Coyote is always out there waiting, and coyote is always hungry.”

           

I don’t know to whom it is attributed other than that it is a traditional Navajo proverb.

In one of the books I wrote, one of my characters questions whether or not he is evil.  A heady concept and question, despite the fact that the boy’s age is only fourteen.  Without going into a lot of detail, the question is warranted.  The answer comes from George, a Navajo boy who is also fourteen, and who was raised very traditionally in the Navajo way of life.

After Brett’s question, there is a long pause before George speaks.  Finally, George said, “My grandfather told me that in all of us, there are two wolves.  One is good and one is evil.  We make a choice each day to feed one wolf or the other.  The one we feed the most determines whether or not we are good or evil.”

“We make a choice each day to feed one wolf or the other.  The one we feed the most determines whether or not we are good or evil.”

While the book I draw this conversation from is a work of fiction, my second book in a trilogy, I believe the words George speaks are real.  They ring true to me.

I sincerely believe there are two wolves in each of us. 

In Each Of Us. 

Drawing from yet another story, another allegory, we might call one wolf Cain and the other wolf Abel.

I also honestly believe that we make a conscious choice to feed one wolf or feed the other, one being good, and one being evil.  We make this choice by our words, our actions.  Sometimes we make this choice by our absence of words, by our inactions.  Sometimes, the thoughts we have make the choice for us. 

However we choose, whatever choice we make, we Feed The Wolf. 

We Feed The Wolf in our day to day interactions with people . . . even with ourselves.  We make choices to act or not act.  We make choices in the words we say or write, and in the words we refrain from speaking or writing.  We make choices in our reactions to the words and actions of others. 

In any case, we make a daily . . . sometimes minute by minute . . . choice to Feed One Wolf or Feed The Other.  Which will you decide to feed?  The choice is up to you each and every time.  As Yoda would say, “Choose wisely!”  Something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

Line In The Sand

A Line of Demarcation is a boundary separating one thing from another.  Sometimes the line separates two countries, such as the Blue Line separating Lebanon from Israel, or the Radcliffe Line separating India and Pakistan, or our very own Mason-Dixon Line. 

We have fence lines separating one ranch from another, or one yard from another.  Sometimes the fence is somewhat imaginary such as a hedge row or tree line.  Sometimes the line isn’t so imaginary such as a river or an ocean. 

The thing about a line is that it separates.  Countries.  States.  Time Zones. 

People.

In our own country, in our own recent past, we sometimes had two lines: one for whites and one for anyone else of color.  Separate water fountains.  Restrooms.  Parts of town.  Even social events.

Sometimes we give each other or earn a title that separates us from one another such as Commander In Chief, or Senator, or Board of Supervisor, or Principal. 

Arbitrary or not, lines separate us from one another and can and often do create divisions and sometimes divisiveness.

And if a line separates, imaginary or otherwise, what happens if the line is crossed?

To me, a Line In The Sand is a dare.  It’s saying to someone, “See what happens when you cross this!”  And it seems like it’s human nature to want to cross that line just to see what happens.

I think we draw a Line In The Sand to each other.  Between one adult and another adult.  Many times, adults do this to kids.  “One more time and I’ll tell your father!”  “Do I need to contact your parents?” “You do this one more time and I’ll . . .” 

Effective, huh?  Hmmm, not so much.

When we draw a Line In The Sand, we back each other, sometimes kids, into a corner so that there is nowhere to go.  Sometimes we even back ourselves into a corner and leave ourselves no choice but to cross our own imaginary line.

Mostly, I feel it is uncomfortable to have a Line In The Sand drawn for us, real or imaginary, our own doing or someone else’s doing.  It’s a dare and somehow, someway, that line says, “I’m better than you!”  “I’m tougher than you!”  It is an assertion, real or imaginary, rightly or wrongly, of one’s power over another individual.  Drawing a Line separates.  It can, and often does, hurt.  Instead of unifying, it creates division.  Instead of joining, it creates divisiveness.

Perhaps we should separate less and join more.  Perhaps instead of keeping others away, we need to include and become more inclusive.  Humans, after all, seek others to be with them for comfort, for guidance, for support.  Lines don’t join people together.  Dares don’t support or encourage.  Lines and dares are destructive, not constructive.  Something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!