Some Favorite Things about Ireland

Happy St. Patrick’s Day! Here are some of my favorite things from the Emerald Isle –

St. Patrick. I have often written about the famous missionary himself, so I won’t go into that story again, but suffice it to say, he is someone worth remembering. He was probably born in England in the late 300s, then kidnapped by pirates as a teenager and taken to Ireland as a slave. He later escaped, went back to his homeland and became a priest – then had a vision of an Irishman begging him to come back to that island and bring them the gospel. In one generation, Ireland was transformed from a coarse, pagan land, into a Christian seat of education and learning. If you want to know more, I highly recommend How the Irish Saved Civilization by Thomas Cahill.

The hymn, “Be Thou My Vision.” During Patrick’s life, on Easter Sunday around the year 433, a Druid king ordered celebration of a pagan holiday instead of the Christian holy day and declared it illegal for anyone to light a fire for any other purpose. Patrick, in defiance of the king and at the risk of his own life, climbed the highest hill and ignited a huge bonfire, to celebrate Jesus as “the Light of the World,” and God’s light shining in dark places. Years later, an unknown composer wrote a beautiful, haunting melody in memory of the event and named it for the place where it happened – Slane Hill.

Legend says that an Irish poet from the sixth century, St. Dallán Forgaill, wrote a lyric that borrowed phrases from another poem often attributed to Patrick known as “The Breastplate.” Forgaill’s poem was forgotten until 1905, when a 25-year-old university student, Mary Byrne, discovered it and translated it into English for the first time. Then in 1912, an Irish woman named Eleanor Hull set the words to music, using the old melody “Slane,” which by then had become a familiar Irish folk tune. It was first published in 1919 and has been appreciated by worshippers ever since – from the opening lyric, “Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart,” to its references to God as “High King of Heaven.”

Celtic music. Speaking of that hymn, one of the things I love about Ireland is traditional folk music. The acoustic sound is one of the foundations of a lot of old-school country music, Bluegrass, and what is today often called “Americana” music. The style uses a fiddle, an Irish “tin whistle,” flute, mandolin, banjo, Uilleann pipes, and often, an accordion or concertina. The guitar and Irish harp are also often used – and since much of it is made to accompany traditional folk dances, a frame drum, a bodhran, is also included. The tunes are often simple melodies with beautiful harmonies, and can range in mood from rollicking, toe-tapping, fun times, to sad and mournful – but always straight to the heart. And by the way – it’s pronounced “KEL-tic,” with a hard “K” sound. The SELL-tics are a basketball team in Boston.

Guinness Beer. Okay, I’m not a big fan of beer, and those of you who don’t drink alcohol at all are welcome to skip this part, but: Guinness Stout has been a famous part of Ireland since 1759, when Arthur Guinness signed a 9,000-year lease on the St. James Gate property in Dublin. Mr. Guinness was a good and generous man who took excellent care of his employees, establishing schools and medical clinics for his workers, providing housing at a reasonable cost, and many other benefits – even organizing Sunday trips to the country by train so his workers could have some time out of the city. Beyond that, back in the day, Dublin’s drinking water was often polluted, causing all kinds of disease, so drinking Guinness was considered a healthier option. Its alcohol level is obviously MUCH lower than Irish whiskey, so it actually reduced drunkenness. I especially enjoy a pint during cold weather, with its nutty, yeasty flavor – the taste always reminds me of the smell of fresh-baked bread. And I love to cook with it too, especially using it as an ingredient in beef stew and roast beef.

The Quiet Man. Okay, this is technically an Irish American movie, but it was filmed in Ireland and is a treat to watch. It’s also my very favorite John Wayne film, co-starring Irish actress Maureen O’Hara and Barry Fitzgerald. It was a passion project for director John Ford, who was himself Irish American, and who worked for over ten years to bring it to the screen. I love it! And the proprieties at all times, if you please…

So, wear your green and celebrate – on March 17, we can all be Irish. Sláinte andErin go Braugh!

The Real Story of Valentine’s Day

With Valentine’s Day approaching next week, I wanted to write about the true story of who St. Valentine was and why we associate him with honoring our sweethearts. The problem is, while there are many legends and myths about the origins of this observance, there is very little reliable history about exactly who the real person was or how he came to be associated with honoring that special someone in our lives.

The best evidence seems to be that “Valentine” was a fairly common name in ancient Roman times, shared by at least three different saints with a connection to February 14. The name “Valentine” comes from the Latin valens, meaning “worthy, strong, powerful” – it’s also the root for our word, “valiant.” For our purposes, Saint Valentine was a clergyman, perhaps a priest or a bishop, from the central Italian town of Terni, around the year 270. He was arrested for his faith – it was still illegal in those days to be a Christian – and brought before a judge named Asterius.

Valentinus (the Latin version of his name) was discussing faith with the judge, who challenged him to prove his faith by performing a miracle: restoring the sight of the judge’s young, blind daughter. The priest prayed for the girl and laid his hands on her eyes, and the child could see. Humbled by this act of God, Judge Asterius asked for instructions for what to do next. Valentinus ordered the judge to destroy all the idols in his home, fast for three days, and be baptized. Church history says that the judge freed all the Christian inmates in his custody, then he, his family, and 44 adult members of his household were baptized.

Later, Valentinus was arrested again for his continuing work in ministry, and this time, he was brought before Emperor Claudius II. The emperor liked the old priest and wanted to set him free, until the priest tried to convince him to become a Christian. Valentinus was sentenced to death. Legend says that just before his death, the old priest sent a note to the judge’s daughter – the one healed of her blindness – and he signed it, “from your Valentine.”

A different story goes that the emperor had decided that married soldiers didn’t fight as well as single men, and so he issued an order forbidding young men of military age to be married. But, according to this legend, the priest Valentine kept secretly performing marriage ceremonies, even though it was against the law. He was executed for this on February 14, 270, and in so doing, became remembered as the patron saint of young lovers.

Other accounts suggest a totally different origin for the day. A pagan Roman festival known as “Lupercalia” occurred sometime from February 13–15, involving a matchmaking lottery and a wild night of drunken celebrations. This history says that at some point in the fifth century, Pope Gelasius I established the Feast of St. Valentine’s Day to “Christianize” this festival.

Whatever its origins, it remained a minor festival of the church until the time of the English poet Geoffrey Chaucer in the 14^th century. (I remember reading through Chaucer’s most famous work, The Canterbury Tales, in a high school English class. Thanks, Mr. Wernig.) Anyway, sometime around the 1370s or 1380s, he wrote a poem called “Parliament of Fowls,” with the line, “For this was on Saint Valentine’s Day, when every bird comes there to choose his mate.” The name stuck, and within a generation, people were writing little poems and notes to their love interests, and these communications became known as “valentines.”

Anyway, fast forward to the 1860s, and candymaker Cadbury’s began selling boxes of heart-shaped chocolates. Hershey’s Kisses came out in 1907, and Hallmark Valentine’s Day cards debuted in 1913. And according to the National Retail Federation, US consumers spent a record $19.7 billion in 2016, in what is believed to be the highest total ever for the holiday.

However you choose to celebrate the day – flowers, chocolates, a pretty card, enjoying a nice meal eating out somewhere – here’s wishing you and your special someone a very happy and loving day.

“From your valentine.”

Goals for the New Year

Did you make any New Year’s resolutions? As we embark on 2023, it’s traditional for many people that they set some goals for themselves – things that they want to work on in the coming months. Whether we call them resolutions or goals or setting a personal agenda, I think it’s a worthy thing to do, so with your kind permission, I’d like to offer some thoughts on self-improvement for the coming year.

Practice Kindness. Did you see the news story the other day out of Buffalo, New York? During that region’s terrible Christmas winter storm, a mentally disabled 64-year-old man named Joey became disoriented and wandered out into the weather. He walked for miles, lost, and was just moments away from dying from hypothermia when a lady named Sha’Kyra heard him crying outside her home. She and her family – total strangers to this man, mind you – took him in and cared for him. She used a blow dryer to thaw out his clothes, which had frozen to his body. Sha’Kyra is a nurse, and she cared for Joey as best she could. His hands were so frozen that his rescuers literally had to cut away his gloves. She bathed him, cared for him, fed him, kept him warm and safe, and let him sleep until they were able to find his family, who had been frantically looking for him in the blizzard.

But the family couldn’t drive over there, because of the storm. Ambulances couldn’t get to them, and 911 was swamped, so Nurse Sha’Kyra and the man’s sister Yvonne used social media to organize neighbors, who in turn showed up – on Christmas Day! – with snowblowers and shovels to dig out their vehicles. Then Sha’Kyra and the neighbors transported Joey to the hospital. At last report, Joey is still in the hospital, recovering from fourth-degree frostbite. He may yet lose some fingers, but he’s alive, thanks to the kindness of one woman who was willing to go out of her way to help a stranger.

Granted, this is an extreme example, but I think the truth is inescapable: each of us can make a big difference in someone else’s life through a simple act of kindness. Whatever the situation, whatever the circumstances, let us be willing to be a Sha’Kyra to someone around us.

Give Others the Benefit of the Doubt. There’s probably a certain level of suspicion that is necessary – even healthy. But it seems to me that too many of us have become cynical in the extreme, unwilling to listen to anyone with a different point of view, and even doubting their goodness and basic humanity. There was a time in this country when we might disagree with others about their ideas or public policy, but we still respected them as people. But those days seem like a distant and unreachable memory. Now, when we disagree, we often feel the need to attack opponents personally, to call them evil and question their decency.

Certainly, we need to be able to debate and discuss many policy issues, but we should start by acknowledging that both sides want what is best for the country – they just have different ideas for how to accomplish that. Republicans, Democrats, Independents: everyone needs to quit playing political “gotcha” and work together for the common good.

I saw an excellent example of that just the other day at our own county commissioners meeting, as the incoming and outgoing commissioners calmly sat together before the meeting and discussed an issue relating to their precinct. No drama, no histrionics – just two good men, who both wanted what was best for the residents of that part of the county, and both doing their best to work for that. It made me proud of our local government – and a little bit sad that others in state and national government don’t show the same kind of unselfishness and good sense.

Learn Something New. It’s easy to fall into a rut – it’s much harder to try something different. I’m suggesting that it’s worth the effort to do just that. Read a new book. Learn to cook. Explore a new hobby. Plant a garden. Take up woodworking. Go for a walk. Be willing to explore the new and try the unfamiliar. Develop curiosity and put it into practice. When we challenge ourselves like that, it keeps our minds fresh and provides us with opportunities to make new friends and discover things we never knew.

Too many of us are too willing to settle for things as they are and always have been. Remember, there was a time when everything we enjoy was new to us, untried and unfamiliar. Let’s be willing to break out of our routines. Remember, if you want something you’ve never had, you have to be willing to try something you’ve never tried.

Happy New Year! Here’s to a blessed and safe 2023 for us all.

My Favorite Christmas Character

Who’s your favorite character from the Biblical Christmas story? Obviously, we are most focused on the Baby Jesus – after all, it’s His birthday, and He truly IS the “reason for the season.” But beyond Him, which person from the narrative really stands out to you?

Some people will probably choose Mary, and I could easily agree. A teenage girl with enough faith to accept the angel’s announcement, then go through the gossip and public shaming she would have endured – it really says a lot about her character. Her betrothed, Joseph, too, was a man of Godly integrity and faithfulness, shown by his willingness to obey God.

There are many other characters in the familiar story. From the priest Zechariah, who is visited by the angel in Luke 1 and learns that he is going to be the father of a baby who will become John the Baptist, to his wife Elizabeth, who greets her cousin Mary; from the shepherds on the hills above Bethlehem, to the Wise Men bringing their gifts – there are quite a few interesting folks involved. But I want to tell you about my favorite: an old man named Simeon.

According to Luke 2:25-35, Simeon was “righteous and devout,” and he was waiting for the fulfillment of God’s promises of the “consolation of Israel.” He was also apparently an elderly man, and he knew that he did not have many days left. He was ready to go, except for one thing: Luke also tells us that the Holy Spirit had revealed to Simeon that he would not die before he had seen, with his own eyes, the Messiah coming from God.

It’s hard for us to imagine how momentous this really was. The fact is, our culture is terrible at waiting. We grow up longing for Christmas morning, then by the middle of morning, the kids are playing with the boxes instead of the toys that had been inside. We barely finish counting the results of one election before the media is speculating about who’s going to run next time. We hurry and rush and frantically move from one thing to the next, but rarely do we slow down long enough to really think about what this story is really telling us.

For thousands of years, God’s chosen people had been waiting for the “Anointed One,” known in their language as “The Messiah.” He would bring justice to a world of unfairness. He would bring righteousness to a world filled with so much evil. He would bring peace to a world torn by violence. Kindness. Compassion. Goodness. Simple decency towards one another, and genuine, heartfelt worship to God. This is what Messiah would bring as part of the Kingdom of God.

And somehow, the Holy Spirit had communicated to this tired old man that he – Simeon! – would be allowed personally to see God’s promised Savior. That God’s grace would be poured out on him, to view the One that so many, for so many generations, had wanted to see but never had. So on this otherwise ordinary day, Simeon leaves his house and goes to the Temple, as he had done so many other times. But this time was different.

As Simeon works his way down the line of parents with their newborn boys, he looks from infant to infant. “Is it this one? Is he the one? No.” He keeps going until he gets to Mary and Joseph and the baby, and somehow, he knows. He somehow manages to persuade Mary to allow him to hold the precious little one, and then he prays over the infant –

“Sovereign Lord, as you have promised,
    you may now dismiss your servant in peace.
For my eyes have seen your salvation,
    which you have prepared in the sight of all nations:
a light for revelation to the Gentiles,
    and the glory of your people Israel.”

If the birth of Jesus teaches us nothing else, it should teach us this: God is always faithful, and He always keeps His promises. It is rarely according to our timetable, and the fulfillment is often done in ways that we could never have imagined. But God is always faithful.

As we move from one holiday event to the next this year, let us hold on to this truth: God is absolutely, undeniably, and unshakably, faithful to His word, to His promises, and to us. Merry Christmas.

Legends of Christmas

Among my favorite things about Christmas are the many wonderful and inspiring legends that are incorporated into our celebrations. How many of these stories are you familiar with?

The Christmas Candy Cane

Some legends have beginnings that trace their roots back to multiple origins. One of these is the legend of the Christmas Candy Cane. The earlier dates back to 1670 when, according to the story, the choirmaster of the Cologne Cathedral in Germany would hand out sugar sticks to his young singers to keep them quiet during the extended program of a Living Nativity Scene. In keeping with the celebration, he had the candies bent with a hook at the end, to remember a shepherd’s staff.

Then in 1847, a German-Swedish immigrant, August Imgard of Woosted, Ohio, had a small tree decorated with candy canes. Sometime around the turn of the 20^th century, someone added red and white stripes and peppermint flavoring to the candy. In Indiana in the early 1900s, a candymaker wanted to make a treat that would be more of a tribute to Jesus, so he developed the Christmas candy cane that we know today.

The white represents the virgin birth and the sinless nature of Jesus, and the red stands of His blood, which saves us from sin. Many versions have three red stripes to remind us of the scourging which He received. The shape of the candy reminds both of a shepherd’s staff – He is our “Good Shepherd” – as well as the letter “J” to remind us of His name. The hard candy teaches that He is the Rock of Salvation, and when the candy is broken, it reminds us that when He was crucified, His body was broken for us.

That’s a lot of meaning in a simple piece of candy.

The Legend of the Poinsettia

The story is told of a young orphan girl in Mexico named Pepita. On Christmas Eve one year, she was walking by herself to the village church, and thinking about all the beautiful gifts that would be presented at the manger. She began to cry, because she was too poor to have a gift to bring. As she wept, suddenly an angel appeared, and told her to gather a group of weeds from the side of the road and to give them to the Christ Child.

Pepita did as she was instructed and went on to the cathedral. She ignored the angry looks from other churchgoers, who could not believe this poor child would bring a handful of weeds. As she knelt in front of the manger, suddenly the leaves burst into beautiful, brilliant red leaves! And so the villagers renamed this gorgeous crimson plant with the yellow-gold buds at the center Flores de Noche Beuna – Flower of the Holy Night.

A Christmas Prayer

Finally, we close with a poem that was legendarily written by famous author Robert Louis Stevenson. Stevenson was born in Scotland in 1850. As a young man, he rejected religion and the organized church but later in life, he is said to have developed a very personal faith and a journal of his prayers was published after his death from a stroke in 1894. We’ll give him the final word today in this poem, “A Christmas Prayer.”

Loving Father, 
Help us remember the birth of Jesus,
that we may share in the song of the angels,
the gladness of the shepherds,
and worship of the wise men.

Close the door of hate
and open the door of love all over the world.
Let kindness come with every gift
and good desires with every greeting.
Deliver us from evil by the blessing 
which Christ brings,
and teach us to be merry with clear hearts.

May the Christmas morning 
make us happy to be thy children,
and Christmas evening bring us to our beds
with grateful thoughts,
forgiving and forgiven, 
for Jesus’ sake.

Amen.

“Chains Shall He Break…”

I have been reading recently about a controversy involving a well-loved Christmas carol and the mistaken claims that some of its lyrics, and especially the third verse, are a recent invention. Let me tell you the story behind this great hymn. (Parts of this material were adapted from Stories Behind the Best-Loved Songs of Christmas by Ace Collins, Copyright © 2001, Andrew Collins, published by Zondervan.)

The year was 1847. Placide Cappeau de Roquemaure was the commissioner of wines in a small French village who had a reputation as a poet. Although he was not a regular churchgoer, the local priest asked him if he would compose a special poem for use at that year’s Christmas service, and Cappeau agreed, and soon completed the poem entitled, “Cantique de Noel.” But Cappeau felt that the poem needed to become a song, and so he turned to a musician friend, Adolphe Adams, for help.

Adams was a Jew, but he agreed to help his Gentile friend compose a melody for a holiday that Adams did not celebrate, to honor a Messiah that he did not worship. The tune was finished, and three weeks later, “Cantique” was performed for the first time at the midnight Christmas Mass. The song found wide acceptance in churches across France.

But a few years later, Cappeau walked away from the church; meanwhile, French church officials discovered that the music had been written by an unbelieving Jew. They denounced the song as being unfit for worship services, without musical taste, and completely lacking in “the spirit of religion.”

That might have been the end of “Cantique,” except the song found its way to America a few years later, and was given new life by a staunch abolitionist, John Sullivan Dwight. You probably never heard of him – frankly, neither had I – but he prepared and published a new translation of Cappeau’s poem into English. Dwight was especially moved by the third verse of “Cantique” –

Truly He taught us to love one another,
 His law is love, and His gospel is peace.
Chains shall He break, for the slave is our brother,
 And in His Name, all oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy, in grateful chorus raise we,
 Let all within us, praise His holy Name:
Christ is the Lord! O praise His Name forever!
 His power and glory, Ever more proclaim!

There is a legend that says during the Franco-Prussian War in 1871, a French soldier on Christmas Eve stood up, exposing himself to enemy fire, and began to sing “Cantique de Noel.” The Germans held their fire, and when he was finished, a German soldier began to sing “From Heaven Above to Earth I Come,” a Christmas hymn by Martin Luther. Troops on both sides observed an unofficial Christmas truce.

“O Holy Night” became involved in another Christmas miracle of sorts a few years later, in 1906. Reginald Fessenden was a 33-year-old university professor and former assistant to Thomas Edison. On Christmas Eve of that year, using a new type of generator, Fessenden began to speak into a microphone: “And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus, that all the world should be taxed…”

Across the country, and far out at sea, wireless operators who were used to hearing only coded dots and dashes over their equipment heard a man’s voice, reading them the Christmas story! It was the first known radio broadcast. When he finished reading the story, Professor Fessenden did something even more remarkable. He picked up his violin and began to play a Christmas hymn – “O Holy Night.” And so it became the first song ever heard on the radio.

I love this carol, and it often moves me to tears, in part because of its soaring melody, but also in part because it answers the “So What?” question of Christmas. Jesus came to Earth – so what? He taught us about the love of God – so what? This song reminds us that we must live out the meaning of Christmas in the way that we treat others, to love God by loving our neighbors, and to join the work of Jesus in breaking the chains of sin and injustice. And not just on December 25, but throughout the year.

That really is the best way of “keeping Christ in Christmas.”

Stories for Veteran’s Day

One of the things that I have always appreciated about living in Haskell has been the opportunity – really, the great blessing – of being able to meet and visit with veterans of so many of our nation’s wars over the years. What an amazing archive of experience!

Over the years, I have known men from Haskell, Rule, Rochester, and the entire county, who have shared with me stories of their days in the service. I have been blessed to know guys who were on the beaches of Normandy on D-Day – June 6, 1944. I have known guys who flew 25+ combat missions over occupied Europe in a B-17, and other guys who were with the 101^st Airborne, trapped at Bastogne and surrounded by the enemy during the Battle of the Bulge. I have also known veterans who were part of Patton’s forces that broke through the German lines and turned back that counter-offensive.

I have known guys from the Pacific Theater as well – men who were survivors of the Bataan Death March early in the war, and other guys who were with the Marines who stormed the beaches of Iwo Jima, including one who was with the troops who raised the FIRST flag on Mt. Suribachi. That flag was not large enough to be seen from the Navy ships off the coast, so the Marines raised another larger flag, and it is the picture of that second flag-raising that became so famous.

I knew a guy who was on the island of Saipan during the war. We held one end of a runway, but the Japanese still had the other end of it. He told me the story of how a Marine lieutenant was looking for a way to secure the entire runway, so our planes could use it. Since any approach the far end would mean being under withering enemy fire, my friend was recruited to drive a bulldozer and raise the blade. Then using that dozer blade as a shield and under continuous assault, my friend drove down to the far end of runway and gave cover to the Marines who took the other end of the runway and secured the base.

Where do we get such men?

There was a veteran from here who was in the first wave of troops to hit Utah Beach on D-Day. He told me that the Germans were extremely precise with their mortar fire, and able to drop explosive rounds exactly where they want to on the beach, resulting in terrible American casualties. But, he said, he and the men with him noticed that the Germans were “walking” their mortar rounds back and forth across the beach in a very methodical fashion, so that, by watching where the shells landed and timing their runs across at the right moments, they were able to get inland and take out the enemy positions.

And in so doing, the Allies were able to put 150,000 men ashore in the first 24 hours on the five beaches of D-Day, on their way to destroy Fascism and rescue a continent.

It’s worth remembering that Veterans Day was originally known as “Armistice Day.” It was the day that World War I ended – at the eleventh hour, on the eleventh day, of the eleventh month. That war is personal to me, because my grandfather was a “dough-boy” who fought in France and received a wound in his left shoulder from a German shell that landed behind him. He carried that scar with him for the rest of his life. Grandpa liked to work in the yard with his shirt off, and I can remember as a child, walking behind him and seeing that scar on his shoulder. He would come over to our house for supper and tell my brothers and me stories from the war. Not to glorify the violence or exalt in the killing, but to celebrate the courage of those who were there.

Here’s my grandpa, Stanley Garison (left) with another “dough-boy” during World War I.

And I remember at Grandpa’s funeral – he died on my birthday in 1980, at the age of 81 – the Purple Heart medal that he received because of that wound was pinned to his jacket lapel. The family had agreed that the medal should go to his oldest son, my uncle, who was a career Air Force man. Standing at the casket, my uncle was too overcome with emotion to unpin the decoration, so I removed it from Grandpa’s jacket and gave it to him. I felt very honored to handle, even in that small way, such a treasured piece of our family history.

America has been very blessed over the years that so many have answered the call – men and women who have been willing to “pay any price, bear any burden.” Haskell County is fortunate to be home to so many who have served when and where they were needed. Let us extend to all of them our gratitude for their sacrifice. So to all veterans – thank you for your service. And God bless America.

My Favorite Month

I love October! It’s absolutely my favorite month of the year, for several reasons. It means the holiday season of Thanksgiving and Christmas is not far away, with great family times and all the familiar sights and sounds of that festive time of year. And as an added bonus, my birthday falls this month, so that’s a little extra.

October in North Carolina brings out the best in Fall Foilage.

I really enjoy the changing seasons. Now granted, in our part of the world, the weather doesn’t really “feel” like four distinct seasons. As most of us know, in Texas, it feels like we only have two seasons – summer and not-summer. But still, the days will finally begin to cool off a little and the nights have at least the hint of a chill in the air. Summer is not completely over – we’ve all seen triple-digit heat in October – but sooner or later, the cool will arrive. I’m ready to make a big pot of chili and enjoy. Or maybe head to the back porch and fire up the chiminea. Anyone for s’mores?

I think the changing seasons have a lot to teach us about God, His grace, and His many blessings. There’s a familiarity about it that is very comforting: summer always follows spring; autumn always follows summer. And yet, no two autumns are ever exactly the same. Some years, we have an early freeze, and some years, it’s very wet. So in some ways, they’re the same, but in other ways, each is unique. I like that.

Here’s something else: as I have often expressed, I love baseball! October means that the MLB post-season is here, and the World Series is not far off. There’s a reason they call it “The Fall Classic.” I have been a Texas Rangers fan, through and through, for 45 years now, but since the boys in Arlington rarely make the playoffs, I usually pick a team to root for through the post-season and into the Series. As has been often said, big players make big plays in big games. I’m ready to see if there will be a “Cinderella” team this year, or if one of the familiar squads will bring home the trophy. (But please, please, PLEASE, anybody EXCEPT the Yankees!)

Another point: This month is a reminder that each day is a precious gift, and we shouldn’t waste even one. The Bible points out that the number of our days is established by God before we are even born. If autumn is here, that means winter is not far away. If there are things we need to do to get our homes or vehicles ready for cold weather, now would be a good time.

Even as the trees are shedding old leaves and dropping their dead stuff, remember that sometimes, we need to do the same. If there are things in our personal lives that we need to let go of – past regrets, self-condemnation, old grudges – NOW is a good time for that, too. Let bygones be bygones and forgive. Remember, we forgive, not because others deserve it, but because WE do. As long as we’re holding onto that pain, we’re giving the offender the power to keep hurting us. When we forgive, their power over us is destroyed. So forgive. And forgive yourself, as well.

We should remember that autumn in Texas doesn’t last long; winter will soon be here. We need to appreciate the blessings that God gives us while they last. As C.S. Lewis once observed, “The settled happiness and security which we all desire, God withholds from us by the very nature of the world: but joy, pleasure, and merriment, He has scattered broadcast. We are never safe, but we have plenty of fun, and some ecstasy. It is not hard to see why. The security we crave would teach us to rest our hearts in this world and pose an obstacle to our return to God: a few moments of happy love, a landscape, a symphony, a merry meeting with our friends, a bath or a football match, have no such tendency. Our Father refreshes us on the journey with some pleasant inns but will not encourage us to mistake them for home.”

In other words, enjoy the blessings that God gives, but realize they are never permanent. And Happy October.

Diamonds & Dirt & Heading for Home

In honor of this week’s Major League Baseball All-Star Game, and with your kind permission, I’d like to repeat a column I wrote some time ago about why I enjoy the game. Because, as many others have said before, there is wisdom we can learn from baseball that translates directly into a well-lived life.

For one thing, I love the more-realistic expectations of baseball, especially compared to other sports. The best hitter who ever lived (Ted Williams), in the best season he ever had (1941), had a batting average of .406. That means that six times out of ten when he came up to bat, he FAILED to hit the ball. Can you imagine a successful wide receiver who dropped six passes out of every ten thrown to him, or a basketball player who missed six out of every ten shots he took? Not likely. The truth is, many of us fail more often than we succeed. Success in life is measured, though, not by how many times we fail, but by how many times we get back up and keep trying. Or, as my youngest daughter has been known to say, fall down six times, get up seven.

Another thing about baseball – you have to focus on the situation at hand. You can only play one game at a time. Learn to stay in the moment, and don’t worry too much about the past or the future. When you make an error, shake it off, and be ready for the next ball hit to you.

I love the teamwork of a well-disciplined ball club. I mean, certainly I understand that teamwork is a part of football, basketball, etc. They are, after all, called TEAM sports. And of course I realize that no running back is going to do very well without a good line blocking for him. But to me, there is unmatched beauty and elegance in watching an infield execute a beautiful – even graceful – 5-4-3 double play (the ball is hit to the third baseman, who throws it to second for one out, who then relays it to first for another out). These guys have practiced so long and so effectively together, they make it look easy and effortless. And I assure you, it is not.

Even something seemingly simple like a fielder hitting the cutoff man, who fires to the catcher, to cut down a runner trying to score – such things take mind-numbing hours of work and skill to accomplish.

You have to trust your teammates. A pitcher has to trust the fielders behind him, to provide good defense. Fielders have to trust that pitchers will make quality pitches. So also in life. Surround yourself with Godly companions and support each other.

Baseball is the only sport where the DEFENSE has the ball. It’s up to the offense – the team that is batting – to make something good happen.

Some other principles from baseball that apply to life:

• Realize that sometimes, the ball just takes a bad hop on you.
• There’s a time for preparation, and a time for performance.
• Speaking of time – Baseball has no clock. You play until you’re done. Sometimes, you play extra innings.
• Even the best players will sometimes have an off day. And even the most average player will sometimes have the game of his life.
• In a regular season, every team is going to win 54 games; every team is going to lose 54 games. It’s what you do with the other 54 games that counts.
• Blown calls and bad trades are part of baseball. Deal with it.
• Sometimes you have to take one for the team.
• Play with passion. Don’t be afraid to dive for the ball. It’s okay to get dirt on your uniform.
• There’s a time to bunt, and a time to swing for the fences. Each is valuable in its place.
• Make the most of the opportunities that you have. Don’t waste good chances; you don’t know how many you’ll get.
• The bigger the situation, the more you need to relax. Too much tension is never good.
• You can’t steal first.
• You win some; you lose some; some get rained out.
• Above all else – the main thing is always to get safely home.

Now – Play Ball!

“Jefferson Survives”

As we approach the Fourth of July, I want to tell you a true story of American history – one that is so remarkable, if some Hollywood scriptwriter came up with it, he or she would be laughed out of the room, for inventing such nonsense. Except that in this case, it’s really true. It’s a story that revolves around two of our nation’s Founding Fathers.

Over their lifetimes, Thomas Jefferson (left) and John Adams were co-signers of the Declaration of Independence, the best of friends, and the worst of enemies. They would eventually rebuild their relationship through a series of personal letters, before dying on the same day – July 4, 1826.

Thomas Jefferson and John Adams were about as different as two people could be in the 1700s. Jefferson was tall and lanky; Adams was short and stocky. Jefferson was a slave-holding Virginian and a farmer; Adams was a Massachusetts abolitionist and successful lawyer and author. Jefferson believed in the supremacy of state’s rights and feared a strong central government; Adams thought that a strong central national government was essential, especially regarding the economy, trade, and foreign relations.

Yet despite these differences, the two men became fast friends and each of them held a deep and mutual respect for the other. They were co-signers of the Declaration of Independence, on July 4, 1776. In fact, some historians believe it was Adams who insisted that Jefferson be the primary author of the final draft of the Declaration. Adams served as George Washington’s Vice President, while Jefferson became the young nation’s first Secretary of State. That was when the relationship began to fracture.

Divided over opposing views of the French Revolution and the future of American government, the two became bitter political enemies. Their feud was so bitter, so angry, that when Jefferson defeated Adams in 1800 – involving what some said was a corrupt vote in the House of Representatives. Adams left town and would not attend Jefferson’s inauguration. They would not speak for twelve years.

Finally, another of the nation’s founders, Benjamin Rush (also a signer of the Declaration), came up with a scheme to reunite the old friends. He wrote to each of them, claiming that he had been in touch with the other, and saying that the other man was wanting to rekindle the friendship. On January 1, 1812, Adams wrote a short note to Jefferson at Monticello. Over the next 14 years, the two would exchange 158 letters.

Adams tended to write longer letters and used a LOT more words (perhaps true to his background as an attorney and a writer). Those who have studied the correspondence note that Adams was more confrontational and aggressive, while Jefferson maintained the cool composure for which he was so well known.

They talked about their views on religion and philosophy, and they discussed the long-term effects of the French Revolution, which had been one of the main causes of their initial dispute. Jefferson acknowledged the unfairness of the name-calling done against Adams by some of Jefferson’s followers. Eventually, each had regained the trust of the other. In July 1813, Adams wrote, “You and I ought not to die before we have explained ourselves to each other.”

Their later letters continued to cover a wide range of topics and subjects – even anticipating the growing sectional differences that would eventually lead to the American Civil War. But what really comes through their notes to one other is the tender affection and abiding respect each had for the other. Even as the two elderly statesmen grew older and more infirm, they continued to correspond. In 1823, Jefferson wrote, “Crippled wrists and fingers make writing slow and laborious. But while writing to you, I lose the sense of these things, in the recollection of ancient times, when youth and health made happiness out of every thing.”

Jefferson, 83, was suffering from an intestinal disorder on July 3, 1826. He lapsed into a coma that afternoon and lingered in a semi-conscious state before dying just after noon the next day. Five hundred miles away, John Adams, now 90, was dying from typhoid – the same disease that had claimed his beloved wife Abigail, in 1818. Historians note that his final words were, “Jefferson survives”– not knowing that his beloved friend, foe, correspondent, and fellow patriot, had in fact, died only hours earlier.

It was July 4, 1826 – exactly fifty years to the day since the Declaration of Independence.