NOT HOME YET

 Back in 1909, President Teddy Roosevelt traveled by the steam ship “Hamburg” to Africa, so that he could literally shoot up animals; magnificent creatures which would be donated to the Smithsonian Museum for display. Teddy’s safari lasted a couple of weeks, and, needless to say, he killed a large number of wonderful animals which deserved to remain alive.

Eventually, the day came for the president to return to America, and, as you might imagine, several hundred other passengers boarded the ship with him. Of course, President Roosevelt was escorted to, and made himself comfortable in his first class suite.

It just so happened that an American missionary couple, who had spent 50 years in Africa, and were finally retiring, also boarded the ship. No one showed them to their room. Using a map, they managed to find it in the 3rd Class Steerage section.

Of course, the trip took several days, and whereas the president had enjoyed the safari, and was still “coming down” from it, the missionary couple experienced some significant sadness, having left their mission field and church members behind forever; (or, at least, what amounted to “forever” for them).

Finally, the ship pulled into New York Harbor. And although the president had only been gone two weeks, there were thousands of people lining the docks; screaming, clapping their hands and stomping their feet.

Of course, “Henry” and “Martha” weren’t oblivious to everything that was going on around them, and as they stood on the lower deck, looking out towards the vast throng, Henry exclaimed,

“Martha, President Roosevelt has been on an animal-killing safari in Kenya for two weeks, and he comes home, and there are thousands of people on the docks to welcome him.”

(and)

“But we return home, and there is not a single soul waiting for us.”

And with a knowing twinkle in her eye, Martha looked intently at her husband, and replied,

“Yes, but Henry… We’re not Home yet!”

By William McDonald, PhD. Copyright pending

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FOUL BALLS, FURNITURE, HEARTS & ROCKETS

There are no records kept for foul balls during a single time at bat, but there is one unusual record in this particular category that is unlikely to be broken.

Philadelphia outfielder, Richie Ashburn, who played from 1948-62, was known for his ability to hit multiple foul balls. During one at-bat in Philadelphia, he fouled an amazing 14 pitches!

One of the foul balls struck a woman in the stands; breaking her nose. And then, while she was being carried off on a stretcher, she was hit by a second foul ball from the same player!

Speaking of foul balls, in the current Major League Baseball playoff games, and on the third pitch, one of the players, (I don’t have his name at my disposal at the moment) began to hit foul balls that would go on for the space of something like six or seven swings. Ultimately, he managed to hit a homerun.

My former co-counselor life’s motto is,

“If every time I fall down, I get right back up, I only get a little stronger.”

I expect the two major league baseball players whom I alluded to would ‘second’ that mindset. Of course, the latter of the two fouled one ball after another until that magical toss when he hit a homerun.

My wife and I love the TV series, “Barnwood Builders.” A recent program followed several of the builders as they were on sabbatical.

One of the men, we’ll call him, “Henry,” enjoys making furniture during his off hours. As he was building a corner display case, I was struck by something he said.

“I’ve found out that it’s okay to turn out several pieces of undesirable, flawed furniture, since I manage to learn from my mistakes, and eventually I build a masterpiece.”

Pt. 2

Foul balls and Furniture

I think there’s a lesson here; one which some people never seem to learn. I think too many people are prone to give up on their dreams; when a little more time and effort would have won the day.

I mean where would be today if Dr. Christiaan Barnard had given up after his first heart transplant patient died a few days after his ground-breaking surgery? Certainly not in the midst of  revolutionary progress in the science of transplant surgery. And where would we be today if Robert Goddard had stepped away from his experimentation on rockets simply because a few of them blew up in flight? Certainly not preparing to establish a manned base on the moon, and rolling robotic explorers all over the red planet.

And it occurs to me that persistence goes far beyond foul balls, furniture, hearts and rockets. I mean, it can get pretty personal.

Where would I be today if my spiritual father, Rev. William Kirschke, had quit preaching simply because the first person he witnessed to called him a “holy roller”? Certainly not counseling and mentoring clients, students and interns to the tune of thousands over the past three decades.

While I can’t “buy into” the old adage, “It’s always too soon to quit,” since there is a time and place to quit doing what is very unlikely to work, or to surrender one’s dream, if one determines it was never God’s dream in the first place, or if the guy or gal who dreams realizes they have neither the time, talent or the training to pursue it any further.

Pt. 3

What, after all, intrudes on our ability to pursue our dreams when we experience one or two initial failures?

I think more often than not, we are too prone to give in to our emotions. Fear, anxiety, confusion or depression can limit our wherewithal to fulfill the dreams with which God has inspired us. I think a significant number of believers, and unbelievers, alike, are, “I don’t feel like it people.” We allow our feelings to inhibit our potential when we might very well have been on the brink of success.

A singular, goal-oriented, person of excellence has the internal fortitude and wherewithal to see the future, and to pursue it to its natural end; in spite of “a few blips on the chart.”

 

What dream has God set in your heart? How many times have you failed when just a whisker from sweet success? How often have you allowed feelings to hinder God’s best and brightest plans for your life? What have you learned from your failures, and what is still left to be done?

I cannot help but think of the ball player who hit one foul ball after another, but who went on to hit a homerun. I cannot help but think of the builder who experienced a few failures, but who went on to build an excellent piece of furniture.

“If every time I fall down, I get right back up, I only get a little stronger.”

by William McDonald, PhD. Copyright pending

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CONVENIENCE STORE PSYCHOLOGIST

I experienced one of those cravings for a Coke tonight on my way home from church. My wife and I have been trying to cut back on sugary, carbonated drinks. And rather than keep a “private stock” in the frig, I have been stopping by a convenience store when I “just gotta have it.”

And thus, I stopped at one of these very convenient stores about a mile from my house. Finishing a text to one of my former university students, I stepped out of my car, walked in the door, made my way back to the beverage cooler, and selected three sixteen ounce cans; two Cokes and one Pepsi.

Retracing my steps, I stopped by the candy rack, and picked out a Snickers bar. Finally, I stepped up to the counter, pulled out a ten dollar bill, and prepared to pay for my bounty. Within seconds, a late sixty or early seventy something year old lady strode quickly from the back room, and up to yours truly.

As the clerk “rang me up,” I remarked,

“You are a brave lady.”

(and)

“The Lord must be riding with you.”

Without so much as a smile or nod of the head, or quizzical look denoting a lack of understanding, she replied,

“Yes, He is. I love and serve Him.”

(and)

“I have been held up five times; with a gun, a knife, a hammer, and I didn’t stop to see what the other two were holding in their hands.”

(and)

“Years ago, I studied psychology and sociology.”

With this, I mentioned that I had studied the same curriculum, and that I was a counselor.

Pt. 2

The lady behind the counter continued.

“Well, I planned to become a psychologist, but I had three children to raise.”

(It is important to understand that a Doctor of Psychology must complete 8-10 years of undergrad and graduate studies).

The clerk finished her brief monologue.

“I’ve done this work for 50 years.”

(And it occurred to me that this dear woman had begun her present line of work the year before I enlisted in the Air Force during the Vietnam War)!

I was almost speechless when the aging lady behind the convenience store counter told me that she had once been in the process of preparing herself to be a psychologist. But I was equally flabbergasted when she said she had stood behind a convenience store counter for fifty years!

Having regained my composure, I spoke again.

“Well, what matters is whether you are making a difference in lives. And I have to think you have done that for a very long time.”

Now it was my momentary friend’s turn to be speechless. It was like she was reflecting on what she might have been, and how her life had fallen together.

(and)

It was like in those few seconds which transpired between bagging my soft drinks, and me walking out the door, she found herself thinking of those fifty years standing behind a convenience store counter, and wondering whether she had really made any difference in the lives with which she had to do.

In one case, it made me sad that this dear convenience store clerk had never fulfilled her dream to become a psychologist. But in another case, I like to think I encouraged and affirmed her for the gifts with which God has endowed her, and the words and actions wherewith He has given her to make a difference in the lives He has set in her pathway for such a long time.

 by William McDonald, PhD. Copyright pending 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

WATER PRESSURE

I watch "The 11th Hour with Brian Williams" most every week night; (at least as long as I can tolerate his liberal leanings). Tonight he alluded to a recent "super spreader" campaign rally of President Trump. And Brian W. made his audience aware that in that rally President Trump had returned to a theme which he has mentioned several times over the past couple of years.

Water Pressure

As a matter of fact, the following video segment lit up the television screen.

Suddenly, President Trump smiles and begins to speak.

"You know under President Obama you just didn't have enough water pressure in the average bathroom. I mean, we have three major appliances there; a sink, a shower and, well, I don't have to say anything about that other nasty thing."

(and)

"I can tell you I like plenty of water coming out of the facet. I put my hands under it, and it is just so great to have enough pressure, but when I don't, I end up with soap on my hands."

(and)

"Then, I get in the shower, and I just gotta have plenty of water to wash my beautiful, golden hair. It used to be so frustrating when Obama was in charge of water pressure. I could never get my hair clean."

(and)

"And talking about water pressure, and that nasty thing I mentioned. It used to be 'til I was in charge, you used to have to flush that thing 15 times! Not any more, baby! Not any more!"

And as the screen "fades to black," Williams stares intently into the camera, and with a wry grin says,

"Uhmmm. I think if you need to flush the toilet 15 times, you need a doctor more than you need a plumber, or a president."

by William McDonald, PhD. Copyright pending

GOD'S NEW EXPERIENCE

You might find it surprising if I were to tell you that it is possible for God to have a new experience. At least, the Creator of the universe, the  King of kings and Lord of lords, the Supreme Ruler, the “I AM,” the Bright and Morning Star, the Everlasting God once participated in an experience which He’d never before known…

when Christ, the Son of God submitted to the will of His Father, allowed the most dramatic limitation of His Person and power of all time, was in some inexplicable way reduced to the microscopic size of a fertilized human egg, matured as a fetus in a human womb, was born of a virgin named ‘Mary,’ suckled at his mother’s breasts, and lived in obscurity for three decades; prior to His advent and introduction to public ministry.

Jesus Christ, who along with His Father and the Holy Spirit participated in the very creation of the universe, voluntarily limited Himself, and embraced a new experience unlike anything He’d ever known in the eons, and ultimately gave Himself over to the sacrificial death of the cross.

The Eternal God, Jesus Christ, the spirit being who, prior to His advent on the earth, possessed the power to manifest Himself anywhere and everywhere, limited Himself and dwelt among us, and experienced something unique to Himself; becoming the God-man. As much God as man. As much man as God. And He has seen fit to retain His earthly, nail-pierced body forevermore, (and despite His power) has forevermore limited Himself to occupying one human-sized bit of space at any given time.

I love the passage of scripture which assures us of Christ’ humanness and empathy for His creation.

“We have not a high priest who cannot be touched by the feelings of our infirmities, but was in all points tempted as we are, yet without sin.” (Hebrews 4:15)

It was because He purposely limited Himself and experienced something He’d never before taken the opportunity to experience that He has the unique wherewithal to put Himself in our place, and to say, “Stay encouraged. I’ve been there (and) I will give you rest.”

There is that old riddle which cannot be answered except in both the positive and the negative. Yes and No.

“Can God make a rock so big that He can’t lift?”

Neither answer is altogether correct. Neither answer is altogether incorrect.

However, if you happen to be walking along the street one day, and someone approaches you with the question, “Is it possible for God to have a new experience?”

Tell them, “Yes. Yes, it is. The God I serve purposely emptied Himself of all His prerogatives, limited Himself, took on human flesh, dwelt among us, died in my place, and is alive forevermore.”

(and)

“Because He lives, I shall also live with Him.”

by William McDonald, PhD. Copyright pending

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IDENTITY CRISIS

I was talking to my wife the other day, and said something a Christian isn’t supposed to say.

“Have you ever wondered whether Jesus and His Gospel is real?”

(and)

“I mean, don’t you think from time to time every believer has struggled with just a little doubt about His identity?”

I know questions like this aren’t politically correct, (or would it be spiritually correct) but I think if we, as believers, are prone to ask such questions, it will probably occur during a time of crisis, when our faith is challenged, and when we need to know that we know that the faith we are investing is being invested in the Truth.

Now, to be sure, I have endured many struggles during my fifty plus years on this Christian journey, and I don’t recall the first or the last time I ever questioned the authenticity of Jesus’ claim to be the Savior and Messiah of the world. But we are frail, fickle human beings, and if you have ever walked the same pathway as the character, “Christian” of the novel, “Pilgrim’s Progress” I think you must have entertained such questions.

I mean, don’t we want to get it right? Don’t we want to know that we know the God-man whom we refer to as ‘Lord’ will be the One who will meet us on the other side, and will smile, and say, “Well done, my good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of your Lord.”

And, interestingly enough, the foregoing thesis is coming from the same guy who authored a discipleship program which includes two major focuses. “9 Things a New Christian Should Know and Do” and “5 Proofs That God is God and Jesus is His Son.”

Pt. 2

But I think 95 percent of believers will admit, “Yes, I’ve been there;” (and I’m convinced the other 5 percent are liars). As I have previously inferred, I don’t recall the first or last time I have questioned the sincerity of the fellow who made that startling claim to Saviorhood and Messiahship. But, I assure you, I have.

As my wife and I were entertaining that theoretical question the other day, and as we were talking about those among us who are prone to wonder, I experienced one of those so-called ‘epiphanies.’

“Jesus never questioned His own identity.”

Dear readers, although I have occasionally questioned whether the Jesus of the Bible was “the real McCoy,” I have NEVER wondered if He entertained this question about Himself. I mean, it is apparent that He knew that He knew who He was, and why He, as God, had chosen to have a new experience, and put on this fleshly disability that He would wear for all eternity; to divest Himself of Omnipresence and Glory, and contain Himself in the body of a common man.

My friends, though I may have occasionally questioned the identity of the One who loved me and gave Himself for me, I have never questioned whether He, Himself believed His own claims. I am convinced that Jesus NEVER experienced what we refer to as an “identity crisis.”

As a counselor, I understand there are some among us who are “puffed up,” narcissistic, self-assured and generally “taken up” with themselves, and they may ever be prone to make audacious claims about themselves. (And I think some of these folks are actually so insecure that they find themselves “putting on an act” for the benefit of their “viewing audience”).

Pt. 3

And, no doubt, there were people in Jesus’ day who believed He was one of those poor, demented, troubled souls, and who questioned the reality of His claims.

However, if one man, among possibly 100 billion human beings who ever lived, could make the claim to be the King of kings and Lord of lords, the Alpha and Omega, the First and the Last, the Creator of the Universe, the Way, the Truth and the Life, the Good Shepherd, the Savior and Messiah of the world, it was Jesus Christ.

There was an old television series called, “Dragnet.” And in this particular series, the main character would often utter the words, “Just the facts, Ma’am.”

Well, my friends, the Jesus of the Bible gave us the facts, and challenged us to invest our faith in the only One in whom we can invest all our trust. He simply never questioned His own identity, nor attributes, nor the reality of His Father in heaven, nor the purpose for which He came.

This is the One who made the audacious claim to His disciples,

“I AM the Way. I AM the Truth. I AM the Life. No man comes to the Father, except through Me.”

He is the One who admonished Thomas,

“He who has seen Me has seen the Father.”

This is the One who challenged the religious leaders,

“Before Abraham was, I AM.”

He is the One who has assured you and me,

“Lo, I AM with you always, even to the end of the world”

No, my friends. Jesus NEVER experienced an identity crisis.

He knew who He was, and whose He was, and the purpose for which He put off His glory and assumed the body of a man, a body which he would wear for all of eternity, and one which he put on in order to fulfill the demands of a just God, and to more fully identify with His own creation.

Thank God, Jesus never experienced an identify crisis. This is a God in whom we can invest all our faith, all our hopes and all our expectations.

by William McDonald, PhD. Copyright pending

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“For we do not have a High Priest Who is incapable of empathizing with our weaknesses, but He was tempted in each and every way that we have been tempted, but without giving sway to that temptation and resulting sin.

“Let us approach the throne of Grace without the slightest hesitation, so we may receive mercy, and grace to help when there is nowhere else for us to turn.” (Hebrews 4:15-16. McDonald Paraphrase of the New Testament)

MAKING A MESS

 “As we therefore have opportunity, let us do good to all men…”

(Galatians 6:10)

Pt. 1

My wife and I were rearranging the contents of our pantry yesterday, and as I bent to pick up a small bin of dried, macaroni style noodles, I dropped it on the kitchen floor, and approximately 3,483 of the little critters “hit the deck,” and not only scattered across 40 square feet of said floor, but our dining room, and living room, as well.

And, as a result, since I had managed to create such a big mess, and since it seemed a bit beyond our capabilities, we just left it there. (Not).

No, my wife simply got out her handy dandy broom and dust pan, and we set to work cleaning up the mess. And you know, after a bit of time, and effort a minimum of 3,403 of the original noodles had been transferred to the kitchen garbage can.

I have often told anyone who cares to know, (and some who didn’t) that over the past thirty years I have counseled thousands, taught hundreds, and mentored dozens; in the context of my counseling practice, my roles as a university professor, pastor, and 12 Step recovery group, a residential ministry to former prison inmates, and the Christian discipleship, and counseling training programs which I developed, and taught.

And given the myriad of people whom I have intervened for the past three decades, you can imagine that I have met people whose lives reminded me of… a floor covered with macaroni noodles. And, as a result, I have just sighed, shrugged my shoulders, shook my head, and walked away from the mess.

Pt. 2

Well, anyone who knows me knows that’s not what I did; no more than my wife and I left those 3,403 macaroni noodles on our kitchen, dining room and living room floors.

And among some of my clients, students, parishioners and interns I often witnessed slow, but steady change, and growth and maturity; whereas, at one time their lives had been a total mess. And sometimes, the change and growth and maturity was much faster, and much more impressive. And sometimes, for all my time and efforts, I have witnessed little or no change and growth and maturity. But it certainly wasn’t for lack of effort on my part.

But hearkening back to the mess I managed to make on my kitchen floor, I expect you have “done the math” and have noticed the discrepancy between the original number of macaroni noodles, and the grand total which I managed to collect, and consign to the trash bin. And to be sure, before the day was over, I managed to step on several of those lost little critters on my living room and dining room floors.

The implication? If a counselor, professor, pastor, leader or mentor expect the figurative pieces of macaroni to line up, salute and jump in the garbage can “all by their lonely’s”, he or she will be waiting a very long time.

The work of the ministry takes time and work, sometimes lots and lots of it, and sometimes, surprisingly not so much. And sometimes for all one’s time and efforts, the net result can be a bit disappointing.

And sometimes, for all the obvious growth and change among those with whom we have to do, those who have exerted the most influence, as well as others, end up figuratively stepping on a few random pieces of macaroni on the living room floor of life.

I think it is healthy for counselors, ministers, professors, leaders, and mentors, alike, (all roles I have filled in my life), as well as those to whom they seek to minister and change, to be patient with themselves and others; realizing that it can take time and effort to clean up the figurative macaroni. And sometimes you and I are prone to step on one of those stray critters which have managed to hide behind a figurative couch or chair.

None of us are perfect, and none of us are capable of perfection. I think it behooves us, as believers, to consider those stray bits of proverbial macaroni in our own lives, those little flaws, tendencies, or sins which trip us up at the most unexpected times, and to offer grace to those among us who are walking the same pathway which we call life.

by William McDonald, PhD. Copyright pending

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CHARLES INGALLS - ROLE MODEL

 For my money the best and most authentic 19^th century era television series of all time was “Little House on the Prairie.” The re-runs are broadcast on the Hallmark Channel on a daily basis, and I make a point to tune in.

 

Interestingly enough, I have a couple of connections to the characters on this program.

 

A couple of years ago “Mrs. Oleson,” (Scottie MacGregor) and I established a short-term pen-pal relationship; exchanging several letters. And I am pleased to say that the “real” Laura Ingalls Wilder was a distant cousin of mine; both of us having descended from a particular Mayflower passenger.

 

And as compelling as I consider the content of my last paragraph, it has little or nothing to do with the topic of this blog.

 

I simply like two particular traits of the legendary Charles Ingalls; (played by the equally legendary Michael Landon).

 

His tender nature and his confrontational personality.

 

The two sides of a coin.

 

On the one hand Charles could challenge injustice, stand up to bullies, ask the hard questions and defend his family’s honor, and get pretty “in your face” doing it.

 

On the other hand Charles teared up at the drop of a hat; whether Laura had just won the annual Easter Egg Hunt, or an early snow ruined his wheat harvest. You name it. He cried at will.

 

Humility and Boldness. Definitely two of my favorite attributes.

 

Thanks for the fine role modeling, Michael; (I mean Charles).

by William McDonald, PhD

MERCY ME

 I am a big fan of the old TV series, “Little House on the Prairie;” so much so that I watched three of the segments this morning.

But given the foregoing scripture, and the focus of this particular blog, allow me to figuratively weave a couple of the television segments together.

We see Charles Ingalls and a much older man engaged in a log chopping contest; sponsored by the fictional town of Walnut Grove. As the contest began five men were in fierce competition with one another, but now, the participants have been “widdled” down to just two, and each are determined to win.

Ultimately, Charles and Jonah have come down to the end of the contest, and now the best two out of three matches will win the day. Each man’s ax strikes blow after blow on the hapless logs beneath them. And now, the men move to the other side of their quest, and furiously continue chopping.

Finally, Charles’ log succumbs to his unyielding blows, and lays in two pieces before him. Subsequently, Noah bests Charles heroic efforts, and he wins the second of the three matches.

And now, the judge declares a thirty minute break, and each man joins his wife on the sidelines. Having eaten a sandwich, and gulped down a quart of water, we see Charles seated in a nearby barn sharpening his ax.

Pt. 2

Suddenly, Matilda, Noah’s wife, walks into the barn, and begins to speak.

“Hello Charles. You know my Noah has won Walnut Grove’s, ‘The Bull of the Woods Log Chopping Contest’ every two years for a very long time. But, Charles, I can tell he’s having trouble out there. He seems to be declining the past few months. He just hasn’t felt well.”

And now, a tear rolls down Matilda’s cheek, and she begins to sob.

“Oh Charles, this contest means so much to Noah. You know he’s a proud man. I think losing this contest would just about do him in, and maybe me too.”

And with this, the aging woman slowly turns, and walks out the stable door.

Well, as you can imagine, the implication of Matilda’s visit is not lost on Charles. And given his legendary empathy, (at least in this little corner of the world) he is quick to catch on.

The judge blows the whistle, and once again Charles and Noah “go to work” on their respective logs. The axes rise and fall dozens of times. And then, suddenly, Noah’s log splits first, though Charles is just seconds behind.

The crowd screams their approval, and the judge yells above the din of noise around him.

“Noah Tyler has won the 1887 Walnut Grove Bull of the Woods Log Chopping Contest! Congratulations Noah!”

And with this, the former pins a blue ribbon on Noah’s inflated chest.

Of course, the sixty year old man’s grin almost outshines the sun, and his wife beams with pride. He is still the “Bull of the Woods.”

Now, Charles walks up to the old man, and congratulates him with the statement,

“You got me this time, Noah, but you just wait ‘til the next Bull of the Woods contest!”

Having spoken to his chief competitor, Charles locks eyes with the smiling Matilda, and she nods her head, as if to say, “Thank you.”

Pt. 3

The contest done and won, Charles, and his family walk back to their horse and wagon, and Laura watches as her dad begins to wrap the head of the ax in burlap. And she says,

“Pa, you used a borrowed ax ‘til the last match. Then you used your old one.”

Charles responds.

“You know you’re right, Half-pint. Mr. Tyler is a good man with an ax. But he’s a lot older than I am.”

(and)

“You know when you get older, you get tired a lot easier.”

(and)

“Just like you winning a race with a big head start. It doesn’t mean anything to win if you have a head start. That’s why I switched the axes in the last match. Just so it would be even between me and Mr. Tyler.”

And with this, Laura’s frown turns into a grin, and she says,

“Mr. Tyler sure is happy about winning.”

And now, Pa rubs her head, and exclaims,

“No happier than I am about losing!”

On this day, Laura has learned an important lesson about extending mercy to another human being.

Pt. 4

The next day, Caroline Ingalls walks into the Olson’s Mercantile, and selects a 5 pound bag of sugar, a 10 pound bag of flour, and a few pieces of hard candy.

Stepping up to the counter, Harriet Oleson rings up her purchases.

“That will be $2.57, Mrs. Ingalls.”

With a slight tinge in her cheeks, Caroline answers,

“Please put it on our account, Mrs. Oleson.”

Harriet’s smile turns into a frown.

“Now, Mrs. Ingalls. You know this is not a charity organization. We have already paid for everything you see in this store; cash and carry. We are really not in a position to extend credit to you every time you walk through our door! I’m sorry your husband can’t find a job that will support his family, but that, my dear, is not my fault!”

And as her face turns a deep red, Caroline leaves the sugar, flower and candy on the counter, turns on her heels, and walks out the door.

I knew Harriet Oleson. Well, at least I knew the great, late actress, Katherine MacGregor, who portrayed her; at least from a distance. You see, Katherine and I were pen pals for a few months; back in 2008. And honestly, based on four or five letters I received from her, there were some similarities between the actress and her television character. (However, I don’t think the similarities were as pronounced as what we see on TV).

From my way of thinking Ms. MacGregor was the finest female supporting actor of all time; at least my time. I mean, she was just so believable. Mrs. Oleson was such a nasty, vicious, vindictive, manipulative, gossipy woman.

And such a study in contrasts with her neighbor, Charles Ingalls who was, as scripture admonishes, determined to do good to all men.

Whereas, in the log chopping competition, Charles offers Mr. Tyler the gifts of mercy and grace, Mrs. Oleson “climbs all over” Caroline when she attempts to charge a couple of inexpensive items at the mercantile.

Afterward

I love a couple of definitions I came across a few years ago.

Mercy – Not getting what we deserve

Grace – Getting what we don’t deserve

And I don’t think we can do any better than to extend mercy and grace to those whom God sets in our pathway. For after all, didn’t God extend mercy and grace to us?

I think Charles Ingalls and Harriet Oleson offer us such an excellent study in contrasts. I think we would do good to emulate the former of the two, rather than the latter.

by William McDonald, PhD. Copyright pending

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DEAR GOD - A Little Girl's Love Letter for Her Dog

Our 14-year-old dog Abbey died last month. The day after she passed away my 4-year-old daughter Meredith was crying and talking about how much she missed Abbey. She asked if we could write a letter to God so that when Abbey got to heaven, God would recognize her. I told her that I thought we could so, and she dictated these words:

Dear God,

Will you please take care of my dog? She died yesterday and is with you in heaven. I miss her very much. I am happy that you let me have her as my dog even though she got sick.

I hope you will play with her. She likes to swim and play with balls. I am sending a picture of her so when you see her you will know that she is my dog. I really miss her.

Love, Meredith

 We put the letter in an envelope with a picture of Abbey and Meredith and addressed it to God/Heaven. We put our return address on it. Then Meredith pasted several stamps on the front of the envelope because she said it would take lots of stamps to get the letter all the way to heaven. That afternoon she dropped it into the letter box at the post office. A few days later, she asked if God had gotten the letter yet. I told her that I thought He had.

Yesterday, there was a package wrapped in gold paper on our front porch addressed, 'To Meredith' in an unfamiliar hand. Meredith opened it. Inside was a book by Mr. Rogers called, 'When a Pet Dies.' Taped to the inside front cover was the letter we had written to God in its opened envelope. On the opposite page was the picture of Abbey & Meredith and this note:

Dear Meredith,

Abbey arrived safely in heaven. Having the picture was a big help and I recognized her right away.

Abbey isn't sick anymore. Her spirit is here with me just like it stays in your heart. Abbey loved being your dog. Since we don't need our bodies in heaven, I don't have any pockets to keep your picture in so I am sending it back to you in this little book for you to keep and have something to remember Abbey by.

Thank you for the beautiful letter and thank your mother for helping you write it and sending it to me. What a wonderful mother you have. I picked her especially for you. I send my blessings every day and remember that I love you very much. By the way, I'm easy to find. I am wherever there is love.

Love, God