3962
I was just talking to my daughter on the phone. She has lived
in a care home for thirty years due to various mental and emotional challenges.
She was in the process of telling me that she prays every
day.
And I said,
"You know, God answers our prayers in three ways. He
says 'Yes' or 'No' or 'Wait.'”
To which Mary responded,
"Yes, sometimes He answers my prayers right away. And
sometimes He waits with me.”
3961
I had
walked into my bathroom with the intention of taking a shower when I happened
to look through the small window above the sink.
What
greeted my eyes was surprising.
As a
matter of fact, it was utterly deplorable. Shocking. Maddening. Utterly beyond
the pale.
I
found myself watching a vicious predator in the act of catching and consuming
his prey. And without the slightest sign of remorse.
The
predator had suddenly grabbed the smaller creature out of the air as it flew
by, and now the latter was struggling to free itself from the powerful jaws of
its captor.
Bit
by bit the predator consumed the unfortunate creature alive; severing its body
parts and gulping them down. In the course of my seventy plus years I have
never been privy to such brutality.
And
while I may have inferred it, I think I failed to tell you that when I looked
through the window, I was literally looking through the opaque glass
of the closed window; (rather than out of the open window).
And
the predator? A common porch lizard.
And
the prey? A small moth.
However, given their size what I beheld recently was every bit
as gruesome as anything I had ever seen on one of those nature programs in
which a crocodile attacks a hapless zebra, and rips him apart limb by limb.
I think I will never think of a porch lizard the same way
again.
by William McDonald, PhD
3960
When my
first wife and I lived in Virginia, I was employed as a Civil Service clerk at
the U.S. Army Records Center in Alexandria; just outside of Washington, D.C. It
was a 30-40 mile drive, and I expended a total of well over an hour per day in
my commute. And it may be helpful to you to know that Stafford County was, at
least at that time, very rural in nature, and more susceptible to contingences
of the weather than the D.C. area.
It was the
winter of 1973, possibly 1974, and our television weatherman was predicting
8-10 inches of snow in and about Stafford County. And true to his prediction,
we woke up to an impressive blanket of white surrounding our mobile home, and
the hundred or so other aging mobile homes which lined the streets of our
trailer park.
And I
suddenly realized how woefully unprepared I was. Not only did I lack snow tires
(and/or chains), but our mobile home park was absolutely snowed in, and no
arrangements had been made this winter, (nor any winters preceding it) for a
snow plow.
Pt. 2
Well, as you
might imagine, as soon as 9am rolled around, I called my supervisor, Miss
Elizabeth Brown, and made her aware of my inability to report to work that day.
No doubt, she questioned my lack of preparation, but dear reader, I could only
report what I just reported to you.
However,
since no additional snow was scheduled for the next couple of days, I surmised
that the accumulation of white stuff would soon melt, and I would be able to
make it to my job the following morning. (Can we say, “Below average
temperatures?” Can we say, “No such luck?” Can we say, “Fat chance”)?
Well, my
dear friends, not only did the snow fail to melt that day, but when I awoke the
following morning, the level of the white stuff against the picket fence which
bordered my mobile home seemed not to have decreased one iota. And as I had
done the day before, I spun the dial of my rotary phone, (for cell phones were
still only a twinkle) and anxiously awaited the subsequent “Army Records
Center. Corps of Engineers. This is Miss Betty Brown” greeting of my immediate
supervisor.
Her matronly
greeting was not long coming.
To say the
elderly lady was displeased with my inability to report to work two days in
succession would be “next door” to saying she was disappointed with having lost
her right foot to gangrene. I mean, she was ‘ticked.’
“What do you
mean, Bill? The streets are clear here. I simply don’t understand. I hope you
can make it to work tomorrow!”
I realized I
was left with only one option. I set off on foot, and soon found myself walking
down Route 1, South towards the quaint Civil War town of Fredericksburg;
approximately ten miles distant. Having walked a short distance, I stuck out my
thumb, and hoped some passerby would take pity on me.
Pt. 3
Sadly, (at
least for me) I cannot tell you I received an immediate lift, nor can I report
that anyone so much as slowed down to look at me during the course of the first
hour. Eventually, however, an old Chevy pickup truck pulled off the road, and I
jogged the 15 or 20 yards which separated my person from the vehicle. Arriving
alongside the truck I threw open the passenger door, stepped in, and thanked my
earthly savior for the courtesy he had chosen to extend towards me.
No doubt, as
the miles accumulated, (much faster than they had done when I was on foot) my
momentary friend and I chatted about the historic snow storm just past, and the
reason behind my journey. As we passed through Falmouth, and crossed the
Potomac River, I asked my ‘chauffeur’ to drop me off at a car parts store.
Exiting the vehicle, I thanked the man, and went in and asked the clerk whether
his fine establishment carried snow chains; to which I received an affirmative
response. Of course, he inquired about the make and model of my vehicle, and
before much time elapsed, I walked out of the store with the requisite
hardware.
At this
point, my journey continued in reverse. For whatever reason the trip forward
has proven to be more memorable than the trip backwards, but I surmise I walked
an interminable distance, and eventually someone responded to my right thumb.
Whatever the case, by the time I walked through the entrance of the
(illustrious) “Stafford Mobile Home Park” the sun was low on the horizon.
And it was
then I realized, how utterly different the landscape now appeared in contrast
to its appearance when I began my southward trek. I was almost disappointed to
realize that the lovely blanket of virgin white snow was all but gone now, and
the black asphalt of “Virginia Drive” and its muddy parallel shoulders had, by
now, risen up to greet my return.
Given the
karma which seemed to pursue me on this particular day, I thought it not
strange that the hard-won snow chains which I so valiantly labored to retrieve
…were the
wrong size!
(I am happy
to report I made it to work the next day).
Afterward
Did I
mention that at various times and seasons in our lives, we’ve all experienced
‘stuff’ which provided plenty of fodder about which we might have complained,
(and probably did) but which, given enough “water under the bridge” can only be
recounted with a “wink and a grin,” …(or perhaps peals of uproarious laughter)?
Well, the
foregoing illustration from my own life is a good example.
Considering
all the hideous things going on in the world today,
…I am
blessed. Yes, I am blessed.
3959
“The LORD will make you
the head and not the tail; you will only move upward and never downward, if you
hear and carefully follow the commandments of the LORD your God, which I am
giving you today.” (Deut. 28:13)
My wife and I enjoy visiting an
Air Force base about an hour away from our home. Not just any Air Force base,
but my former base during my one tour of active duty in the military. And as you
might imagine, my wherewithal to visit this base is dependent on having earned
a military retirement; another thirty plus years spent in the reserve.
We drove over to MacDill Air
Force Base yesterday.
And while we were there, we
experienced something different than either of us had ever experienced before.
Nothing especially startling to be sure, but so consistent, and so recurring
that we spoke about it later.
Our major task yesterday was to
pick up our new retired ID cards. I had been notified by email that our old ID
cards had been voided, and that we would have to stop by the visitor’s center
to pick up a temporary pass; which would allow us entrance into the base. Jean
parked our car, we got out, and we went inside. We have been required to stop
at the visitor’s center before, for one reason or the other, and I knew that we
were likely to encounter a line of people. However, as we walked through the
front door, there was no one in front of us. We stepped up to the window and
the clerk immediately issued us a temporary pass.
After we exited the building,
we drove past a gate security guard, and south on a street adjacent to a bay. After
about a mile, we turned down another street which led to the ID card office;
(immediately across from the building in which I had worked a half century earlier).
Stepping into the ID office, we discovered there was no one else in line. We
had our new ID cards in just moments; (as we had filled out the required
information on a kiosk monitor a couple of months earlier).
Now we retraced our path to the
PX, (the base department store), dismounted our car, walked in, browsed a bit,
and picked up a few items for Christmas. As we were checking out, we noticed
that the register in front of us was devoid of customers. As a result, we
walked right up, and the cashier scanned our purchases.
After we walked out of the
store, we decided to get something to eat. I suggested we try Subway in the
food court. Walking down the hallway, my wife designated me to step up to the
counter and order the sandwich; which we planned to split. Again, I noticed
that I was the only one in line, though a couple of soldiers stepped up behind
me.
By now we had entered four separate lines in which we had
every reason to think would be “covered up” with people during the Christmas
season. And in each case, we found ourselves first in line.
As I thought about it later, the scripture with which I began
this musing came to mind.
“I will make you the head and not the tail.”
It is wonderful to realize how much our Heavenly Father loves
and provides for His children. Yesterday was a poignant reminder of that
previous passage of scripture, and our Lord’s intention to make us the head and
not the tail.
by William McDonald, PhD
3958
I have
previously reflected on the following experience, but not having ready access
to that story among far too many files, and far too little time, I feel
inclined to reflect on it again.
A few years
ago I decided to trim my neighbor’s tree. Generally, I would not have been
quite so altruistic, but the limbs of the tree hung over my driveway, and as
spring approached each year a healthy supply of oak pollen showered my car, and
the pavement upon which it was parked.
And since
there was a basketball post just beneath the offending tree, it seemed good to
me to prop my straight ladder against it, and having done so, I set about the
task at hand.
Did I
mention round posts and straight ladders are altogether incompatible? (Well,
they are).
Suddenly,
the ladder accomplished a task for which it was never intended. It became
mobile. And I became its unintended pilot. Given the choice to ride the thing
to the ground, or jump, I chose the latter.
And as I
“winged my way to worlds unknown” I chose to land upright, (or something
approximating it) and twisted my body just enough in my failed flight to the
concrete to land on my right foot.
I knew. I
just knew
My ankle was
broken
After lying
there a moment, and using my car for leverage, I stood upon my left foot,
hop-scotched to my front door, opened it, and made my wife aware of my injury.
Fast forward
several weeks, and I found myself in a prep room at Tampa General Hospital
preparing to have my ankle reconstructed; since it was not only broken, but it
was badly shattered.
Just prior
to being wheeled into the operating room a nurse administered an injection to
my right thigh, and explained that shortly thereafter my leg would develop a
state of paralysis, and that when I awoke I would experience this condition for
several hours prior to the restoration of feeling.
As she
predicted, when I came to I was provided an entre into a state of being to
which I had never before been privy.
For a full
65 years I had enjoyed complete use of all four limbs. Suddenly, I was short
one. Initially, my paralytic experience was nothing more, nothing less than
interesting. The natural scheme of things in which we move, and live and have
our being had been interrupted. Perhaps if I expended a little more thought, a
little more will power I could lift my leg an inch off the bed. (Well,… no).
Perhaps if I focused all my energies on my little toe, I could wiggle that tiny
digit. (Nice try).
Nothing.
Nada. Zero. Zilch
By this time
I had gone from being an interested observer to a concerned participant.
I imagined
the worst. I mean, I could just see myself being discharged in this condition,
and having to use a cane the last third of my life; while all the while
dragging a useless limb behind me.
Alarmed, I
spoke,
“Nurse, uh,
you’re probably aware that my leg is paralyzed. Uhmm, does this sorta thing
ever go wrong? Is there any chance I’m stuck with this dead leg for the
duration?”
“Nurse
Simms” assured me that the paralysis would abate, and that I’d regain complete
sensation and mobility in the limb within a few hours.”
And true to her word, that is exactly how things fell together.
I think this
is a major reason Jesus came to the earth. In the eons which preceded God
assuming human form, and adding the three letter suffix, “man” to His title, He
had never been subject to flesh, frailty, fatigue or the limits of time and
space. Suddenly, having purposely limited Himself, He was given personal access
to the human condition; in a manner not heretofore possible.
Having
experienced momentary paralysis I can empathize with the disabled in a way that
I could have never hoped to do before the event.
Having taken
on flesh and having lived among us, I am confident that our Lord Jesus Christ
was afforded the wherewithal to empathize with mankind in a manner in which He
had never before been able.
My favorite
passage of scripture speaks to this concept, and my personal experience which I
have just recounted causes it to be that much more precious to me.
“We have not a High Priest who cannot
be touched with the feelings of our infirmities, but He was in all points
tempted as we are; yet without sin.
Let us come boldly to the throne of
grace that we may receive mercy for our failures, and grace to help in the time
of need.” (Hebrews 4:15-16)
by William McDonald, PhD
3957
Pt. 1
My brother-in-law and sister-in-law were with us yesterday for Thanksgiving. And during the course of our meal, we began talking about the reality (or lack thereof) of ghosts.
My niece, their daughter, once witnessed something along an old local road which could not be explained; an apparition which appeared as she neared a curve along that two mile stretch of pavement. She and I once attempted to recreate whatever she saw, but as we passed that particular spot on the road, we witnessed absolutely nothing.
I have often wondered about the existence of what we refer to as ghosts, and have, for many years, been convinced that they simply don't exist. Of course, for those, like me, who claim to have seen something fleeting and nebulous, this poses the obvious questions,
"If not ghosts, what, if anything, are these apparitions?"
(and)
"What exactly is their raison d'etre?" (as the French might ask).
I have to admit that in spite of my lack of faith in the theory that ghosts exist, as I have inferred, I have experienced things which cannot be explained, (except the way I will attempt to explain them before I conclude this thesis).
Pt. 2
Speaking of "seeing something," after my father passed away, my mother told me she was sitting in bed one evening. Looking up over the corner of her book, she was surprised to see daddy seated in a nearby rocking chair. He never said a word, but he wore a wonderful smile on his face. A few seconds later, he disappeared.
I have read that as many as half of widows and widowers claim to have seen their husbands and wives after they departed this mortal sphere. So, in the scheme of things, and given the numbers, my mother's experience wasn't all that unusual.
And while I have never seen a dearly departed relative or friend after their departure, in the wee hours of the morning I once witnessed what I am convinced was an angel walking towards me on a nearby sidewalk. I had been pedaling my bike that morning, had stopped at a stop sign, looked left and right, saw an individual, looked away for a moment, and when I turned my eyes that way again, the heavenly visitor had disappeared.
Pt. 3
After my precious little Shih Tzu, Buddy, crossed the Rainbow Bridge in 2006, I was lying in bed one night, and suddenly I felt something against my right shoulder, and then what seemed to be breathing in and out, in and out. That night, or not long thereafter, I felt something settle against my feet. Buddy had slept on a pillow in that location. A week or two later, I was enjoying my recurring nightly walk, and a little white dog appeared in my pathway; only to disappear in seconds. Just short of a decade and a half later, I was seated in residential center where I did counseling, and I perceived some invisible little paws against my leg. Tears welled up in my eyes. After an almost duplicate little Shih Tzu, Queenie, passed last year, I experienced several similar things, including a momentary vision of her near her water bowl, and something which nuzzled against my hand as I sat on the sofa.
Post-script
Given the apparent reality of these heavenly visitations, I have reached the conclusion that what I and many others have experienced, at least those experiences which might be thought of as positive, can be summed up by the word Grace.
God's grace, His love and care for His creation, and His purposeful intention to encourage those who have been left behind.
by William McDonald, PhD
3956
1 Thes. 5:16-18 Rejoice evermore. Pray without ceasing. In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.
