Attic therapy

So, I've been spending hours in the attic over my garage. 

Sixteen years ago we moved into inner city East Dallas. 

And, we brought lots of stuff!  In fact, I built a garage to accommodate my junk.  My cars can't fit into my garage due to the junk!

Since our move, both of my parents died, which added all of their stuff to all of the stuff that Brenda's parents left behind when they crossed over.

Get the picture?  Lots of stuff.

But, back to my hours in the attic. 

I've been trying to sort, stack, box and clean.  And actually, I've been a bit morbid in a good way.  I'm doing the downsizing (lots of stuff going to the CitySquare Thrift Store!) for the sake of my children and their children.  If I can get it organized, surely it will be easier for them to throw most of it away when my time comes. 

Cleaning attics is therapeutic.  It's like counseling on steroids. 

I've dug up so many memories, of so many people who were so good to me, with few exceptions.

My wife.

My daughters.

My sons-in-law.

My in-laws.

Parents.

Grandparents.

My wonderful, magical, beautiful, fascinating, thrilling grandchildren!

Friends.

Work associates.

Neighbors.

Fishing buddies.

Church members.

So many memories, all encased in an attic.

Most of my stuff is junk. 

Lots of it has been fried by the Texas heat. 

But nothing erases the blessings or the wealth of my life captured in my junk! 

I'm a privileged man due to nothing that I've done.

Grace.  Pure grace explains my entire existence.

If you've ever cleared out an attic or a storage bin, you know what I mean.

Surely, this experience should prepare me for more significance in living, however long I have left on this side.

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving!

The complications of prayer. . .

Prayer can be complicated. 

Denver Broncos quarterback, Tim Tebow sees the NFL as a platform for witness in the form of an "in your face" display of religious action at the end of most successful touchdown drives and games.  The popular young player even displays biblical passages etched on his no glare, black eye strips. 

Hey, to each his own, I suppose. 

Still, Jesus did say on one occasion, "But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen.  Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you" (see Matthew 6:5-8 for statement and context).

Even thanking God for the blessings of life can get complicated.  Don't you think? 

It seems important to be very thoughtful about how we pray and about those things for which we pray.  Prayer should be a time of deep reflection, a private alignment of human life with the values of faith as we come to understand the agenda of God.  What do you think?

President's Thanksgiving Day Proclamation

By Associated Press, Published: November 23

President Barack Obama’s Thanksgiving Day proclamation as released by the White House:

One of our nation’s oldest and most cherished traditions, Thanksgiving Day brings us closer to our loved ones and invites us to reflect on the blessings that enrich our lives. The observance recalls the celebration of an autumn harvest centuries ago, when the Wampanoag tribe joined the Pilgrims at Plymouth Colony to share in the fruits of a bountiful season. The feast honored the Wampanoag for generously extending their knowledge of local game and agriculture to the Pilgrims, and today we renew our gratitude to all American Indians and Alaska Natives. We take this time to remember the ways that the first Americans have enriched our nation’s heritage, from their generosity centuries ago to the everyday contributions they make to all facets of American life. As we come together with friends, family and neighbors to celebrate, let us set aside our daily concerns and give thanks for the providence bestowed upon us.

Read the entire Proclamation here.

One prayer

If the only prayer you said in your whole life was “thank you,” that would suffice.

~ Meister Eckhart (1260-1328)

Thank you, Clyde

[Reposted from Memorial Day 2009.]

Clyde Erwin was my father-in-law.

He died in December 1997.

He was a veteran. And, like so many others, very much worthy of our remembrance on this day of memory as a nation.

Nothing needs to be said about Nazi Germany, the result of the complete metastatic malignancy that destroyed an entire national community--economy, values, vision, humanity, soul and all.

Clyde spoke very little about his experiences in World War Two.

But he did tell me about December 1944.

He was caught in the very middle of "the Battle of the Bulge." He woke up on Christmas Day 1944 covered in a foot of fresh snow. Cold, fear, combat, in-coming shells, an advancing enemy army, all combined to make those days horrible beyond words.

Clyde was wounded in battle more than once. He witnessed the deaths of scores of fellow soldiers in the close combat involved in his assignment. How he made it back alive was something I know he felt to be a miracle. He never spoke of that horrible time without tears and great emotion. He earned a Bronze Star from the U. S. Army for his service in combat and for what he did in battle to save and protect those around him.

I wrote him a letter before he died to express my appreciation and that of our family for what he had done so far away from Wise County, Texas and the farm where he grew up outside of tiny Rhome. I am so glad that I did.

He was our hero.

Today I remember that he belongs to the nation as well.

Thanks again, Clyde. We miss you and we'll never forget.

Just one thing. . .

Resolutions wear thin on me most years.

So, for 2011, I'm going to open my eyes and resolve just one thing: I will do my best to drink in every blessing as it comes, and be thankful.

For starters. . .

Happy New Year 2011!