IGUANAS

A young man in the Miami area had heard stories of people who harvested iguanas for food. After all, they were literally falling out of trees in south Florida, and many people considered their meat a delicacy.

Pedro had read that the 2-3 foot long reptiles were especially easy to catch when the temperature dropped into the 50’s; which was fairly rare for this part of Florida. However, one evening in January the mercury fell as low as he’d ever seen it in Dade County, and the young fella went into his garage and grabbed an empty foam container.

Getting into his car he drove towards a park where the iguanas were known “to hang out” in droves. As he pulled into the parking lot it seemed the little “Godzillas” were everywhere. And true to what he had read, due to the temperature they were especially sluggish; almost as if they were sleeping.

And now, Pedro got to work. In a matter of a few minutes, he had filled the foam container to the brim with the green creatures. Putting the lid on the cooler, he opened the rear door on the driver’s side, and laid the container on the seat.

He was ten or twelve miles from home at this point, and the night was coming on quickly. As Pedro navigated his way on the interstate he was thinking about how to “dispatch” the scaly things… when he heard the lid pop off the cooler.

Pedro turned on the overhead light, and looked behind him. The young man was greeted by a grizzly sight. Fifteen or twenty iguanas were scurrying around his back seat! Apparently, the warmth of the automobile heater had re-animated them.

Pt. 2

Now, the poor man slammed his foot on the brake and locked it up. The car was skidding down the road at forty miles per hour while by now several iguanas had mounted his head and shoulders! And with hardly a thought for his safety Pedro did the only reasonable thing he knew to do. He opened his car door… and bailed out!

Thankfully, the vehicle had slowed to twenty mph by now, and there were no cars behind him. He felt every bump and bruise as his body bounced along the hard pavement of the interstate. But somehow, he came to rest on the shoulder of the roadway. He had sustained several serious lacerations, a couple of broken ribs, and a slight concussion.

Pedro managed to look up after his body came to rest. He had time to see his late model sedan run off the side of a bridge; which he had been approaching when the iguanas came to life in the back seat.

It so happened that a highway patrolman was a couple hundred feet behind Pedro when the bizarre chain of events took place. And having witnessed said Pedro bail out of his car, and bounce along the roadway, as well as said vehicle go over the side of the bridge, he threw on his flashing lights, and pulled up behind the injured man.

Running up to the semi-conscious Pedro, he bent down to see what he could do to assist him.

The officer spoke.

“What in the world were you thinking, son?”

(and)

“Why would you bail out of a perfectly good automobile?”

Now, Pedro looked up, and waving slightly with his right hand, he began to explain the scenario which led to the most bizarre accident the trooper had ever witnessed in twenty-five years on the force.

Finishing his story, Pedro exclaimed,

“Evidently, the iguanas wanted my car more than I did, and I wasn’t about to argue with them!”

by William McDonald, PhD. Copyright pending

QUICKSAND!!!

 "There was a group of Rhino hunters trudging through the African jungle one day when suddenly the point man steps into quicksand, and begins sinking into the mire. He's up to his ankles. He's up to his knees. Of course, the other four men are frantic, and begin throwing ropes to their friend, Frank. Oddly enough, Frank has this great big smile on his face. And even more strangely, he begins throwing the end of the ropes back to his friends. Now Frank is up to his thighs. Now he is up to his waist. And as often as his friends attempt to help him, he simply refuses to be helped. Now Frank is up to his chest. And with a broad smile on his face, and even a little giggle, he disappears beneath the surface. And now, only bubbles remain on the surface of the quicksand." My friends, although that scenario would never happen in real life, too many people, even believers, seem to choose to be stuck. They live out dysfunctional, inert lives and never fulfill the plans which God dreamed for them... before He made the worlds. As scripture admonishes us, "These things ought not to be!"

by William McDonald, PhD

BLUE LIGHT SPECIALS IN THE OLD SOUTH AND THE FRIGID NORTH

After I was released from Air Force active duty, and was transferred to the reserve, my former wife and I moved to Virginia, and I proceeded to walk a series of menial jobs.

At the time, I was filling up empty paper bags with blown, shredded newspaper insulation, and I, subsequently, ran the end of the bag under a sewing machine head; (and did it again, and again). Needless to say, it was a hot, nasty, unrewarding, menial job.

While on break one day, I used a phone in the break room, and made a call to a Mr. Hollister of the shoe department at the local Woolco in Woodbridge; a medium-sized town approximately thirty miles from our nation’s capital.

I explained that I had seen his “Assistant Manager – Help Wanted” ad in the newspaper, and I would be interested in applying for the position. I went on to say that I was currently working a despicable, nearby job, and would need to drive home, (a distance of perhaps 30 miles) and clean up before I stopped by. However, much to my disbelief, Tom, (for I will always remember him as Tom) encouraged me to drop by “dirt, sweat, and all.”

As a result, when the big hand was on the twelve, and the little hand on the five, I departed the premises, and drove the three miles which separated me from my quest. While I had shopped in this particular store in the past, my ‘business’ on that day was altogether different. I found the Kinney lease department manager in the refreshment area, we shook hands, chatted a bit, and I filled out the standard application.

Dear readers, Mr. Hollister hired me on the spot.

Pt. 2

I worked for the local Kinney’s lease outfit in Woodbridge for about a year and a half before I was afforded a managerial opportunity in Gadsden, Alabama. If my Southern drawl was pronounced, in contrast, I might as well have been a Yankee in that state. Although my accent was similar, (but a pale shadow of their own) folks in this North Alabama city tended to be clannish, and didn’t ‘take well’ to outsiders. Even after I assumed the part-time position of associate pastor in Boaz, (yes, Boaz) the parishioners took quite some time to ‘warm up’ to me.

In those days stores used something referred to as “Blue Light Specials” to market sale or clearance merchandise. And perhaps, partly an attempt to simply get rid of some old stuff, and partly an attempt to warm up to the people (or vice versa), I came up with a novel idea to get rid of some overstock children’s sneakers.

My son, Steve was about five at the time, and I decided to bring him in on my plan. I made use of a Woolco clearance table, heaped hundreds of pairs of white clearance sneakers on it, and on such and such a day we dressed up like clowns, (boy, that would be popular today) and stood in the aisle and ‘hawked’ our wares; with the aid of the memorable blue light, and the store intercom system.

Well, I can tell you the sneakers “sold like hot cakes,” and we managed to get rid of virtually every pair of them. Oh, one additional bit of color which I neglected to share with you. At this stage, I don’t recall how we accomplished it, (perhaps I wrote it on our shirts) but Steve and I changed our names for the few hours it took to market the shoes. Since my given name is ‘Royce,’ I became Ecyor, and I, as you might guess, spelled Steve’s name backwards, and he became Evets.

As a counselor, I speak about “Making Memories.” We definitely accomplished the task that day.

Pt. 3

Ultimately, it came time to change my managerial location, and I was transferred to a larger gross lease unit in North Wales, Pennsylvania; which had at its core mixed dynamics and mixed results.

As it fell together, the manager whom I was replacing had been hospitalized, and was dying of cancer. When I arrived a few weeks before Easter, I had no sooner walked into the shoe department than I discovered hundreds of pastel lady’s sandals were still neatly boxed in the stock room, and the dark winter stock remained on the shelves.

To say I was angry would be like saying Jesus was a bit miffed when He “laid into” the money changers with the whip. I mean, I could just see the, subsequent, decrease in our yearly gross; which was bound to show up later in the year.

I had no sooner introduced myself than I launched into an immediate verbal tirade on and about the head and shoulders of my outgoing assistant manager, and I ordered her and the hourly worker to bring the new sandals out on the sales floor, and to change out the sales racks; which they (and I) summarily accomplished.

If I ever promoted the blue light special during my five years with Kinney Shoes, it was during the final weeks before Easter in North Wales, PA. And it was made so much more convenient because every department’s phone in the store was hooked up to the intercom.

Having pushed the mobile blue light next to the pastel sandals, I set to work.

“Woolco shoppers. Have I got a deal for you! If nobody has told you lately, Easter is just around the corner. Head on over to the shoe department and feast your eyes on our ladies’ pastel yellow, and pink and blue sandals! And even though it’s the middle of the Easter season, we’ve marked them down by 25%. We have three courteous clerks waiting to serve you.”

Pt. 4

And since I was sitting in my slightly elevated open sales desk while I made the announcement, I could see everything that was transpiring around me. Suddenly, each and every shopper within fifty feet of where I was sitting, (and no doubt throughout the entire store) “stopped in their tracks.” For an instant they stood there transfixed, and then they began…laughing.

Did I mention I was born in Florida? Did I mention I was raised by parents who were born in South Georgia, and who taught me everything I knew about the English language? Did I mention I have a pronounced Southern draw? (Well, I do).

Well, my friends, it didn’t take a brain surgeon to realize they were laughing at me. And whereas, I am normally pretty sensitive to being singled out for someone else’s mockery, at least this time around I just laughed along with them.

Ultimately, my tenure at the Kinney’s lease unit in North Wales, Pennsylvania was brief. I won’t go into the dynamics here, (but it had absolutely nothing to do with termination). My district manager was very happy with my efforts and resulting revenue, and attempted to talk me out of my decision to move back to Florida.

 

While my career with Kinney Shoe Corporation was brief, and my incumbency in the Old South and, subsequently, Frigid North were briefer still, I will always remember those blue light specials with a whimsical smile.

by William McDonald, PhD

SAVING THE WORLD

I was watching a documentary on the Cuba Missile Crisis on the Smithsonian Channel yesterday, and though I thought I knew everything there was to know about the subject, I learned something new.

As fifty or sixty Soviet ships approached two hundred fifty American ships which surrounded and blockaded the island of Cuba, one of the opposing submarine captains made the decision to use a nuclear torpedo against our cruisers, battleships and aircraft carriers. (At the time our military was not even aware of the existence of such a torpedo; something had it been used  would have shifted the local balance of power considerably).

Speaking of a balance of power, the Soviet military required the three senior officers on all their naval vessels to concur before a nuclear weapon could be used against other ships, (or for that matter a land target).

After the captain of the submarine announced that he had decided to rain nuclear devastation upon the American fleet, and solicited the votes of his immediate subordinates, his second in command immediately concurred. However, (and it is a ‘humongous’ however) the third officer voiced a resounding ‘nyet’ to the plan of attack.

Two against one. In this case the ‘one’ won. Thankfully, this awful scenario became the nuclear attack that never was. Of course, had the nuclear torpedo been launched, and had multiplied hundreds of our naval ships and their crews been decimated that day, there would have been no stopping President Kennedy from raining thousands of nuclear tipped American missiles on the Soviet Union and its citizens, which, no doubt, would have resulted in a symmetrical nuclear response against our country and our citizens by Premier Khrushchev. 

Pt. 2

The ships and crews of the two opposing forces in the Caribbean on that momentous day, but more crucially the 193 million citizens of the United States and the 122 million citizens of the Soviet Union were almost miraculously spared from nuclear devastation… by one man, which, in essence, made him something of a Christ figure in the lives of the two nations, (and the other nations of the world which would have reaped multiplied tons of radioactive fallout, and which would have jeopardized the lives of countless other people).

Allow me to recount a different story for you now. (However, I think you’ll find that we will soon arrive at a unique convergence of the previous tale with the one I am about to share with you).

As my daughter, Mary neared the age of twenty, she began displaying significant symptoms of psychosis. As a result, I transported her to the county crisis unit where she was evaluated, and was ultimately involuntarily committed to a state mental facility. (I will always be thankful, for though she has experienced a few relapses over the years, this was her first real opportunity to heal, stabilize and exhibit change). Every second or third weekend, my wife and I drove south to visit Mary in the small city of Arcadia. It was a long trip, and the scenery consisted of small towns and pasture land.

We had just driven up to her particular domicile, and, as usual, she was there to greet us. However, this time there was someone else with her whom I did not know. He was a “big old boy.” For our purposes here, I’ll call him “Bob,” (as in “What About Bob”)? The young man “hovered” at about six foot three inches, and must have weighed three hundred pounds. I had no idea how to relate to him, but decided I’d just have to do my best.

Just when I decided I didn’t much like Mary wasting my time with this guy, the incredible happened. Momentary Ministry.

The young fella looked me directly in the eyes, and uttered a few words:

“No one ever visits me here. Not my parents. Not my friends. WILL YOU HUG ME?”

Well! You guessed it. Right there before God and everybody, I wrapped Bob in my arms, and held him for several moments. His arms also embraced me, and I felt his head as it drooped onto my right shoulder. And if for only one moment, he knew someone cared. (Tears come to my eyes even now).

You never forget moments like that.

My sensitivity to The Vulnerable among us has increased.

Afterward

In Judaism there is an old maxim which assures us that,

“He who saves a single life saves the world entire.”

We hear that maxim quoted in the movie, “Schindler’s List.” And, of course, anytime I have ever heard the phrase since then I have thought of the movie. After having seen the documentary about the Cuban Missile Crisis, I will also think of that courageous Soviet officer who stood in the gap for the entire world when he vetoed the use of that nuclear torpedo against our American ships and crews. Of course, Oskar Schindler and that Soviet officer saved many more than one life.

As a believer, however, I think we have been called by God to “save one life at a time.” For this is the manner in which our Lord so often works. I was given the opportunity on that day which transpired three decades ago to, in essence, save one life, or at the very least make life more tolerable for a young man by the name of Bob.

“He who saves a single life saves the world entire.”

by William McDonald, PhD. Copyright pending

GETTING INTO THE WRONG CAR

I was at Walmart the other day, well, the other evening. What I was looking for is not important, (though it happened to be a couple of attachable hard drives). Upon leaving, I remembered the approximate area of the parking lot where I had parked my car, but perhaps not the exact row. But after walking in a southerly direction for a couple of minutes, I found it. My 2015 silver Nissan Altima.

As I recall now, I clicked my key fob and heard the familiar sound of the door unlocking. Swinging open said door, I sat down in the driver’s seat. But not just any driver’s seat…someone else’s driver’s seat! In the split second that I had been sitting behind the steering wheel of what was becoming an increasingly unfamiliar vehicle, I turned my head to the right, and noticed a couple of even more unfamiliar canvass bags on the passenger seat, and a couple plastic bags on the floor.

Well, as you might imagine, no one had to beg me to get out of the car in which I had just spent all of 1.5 seconds! My posterior had hardly had time to say “thank you very much” than I was on my feet again, and walking back to my own car. For I had no sooner dismounted the wrong vehicle than I recognized my own vehicle on the next row over. (Funny thing. Silver colored sedans look very much alike in the dark of night).

As I approached my car, I looked behind me, and to the left and right to see if anyone had noticed my rather glaring error. Thankfully, it appeared only God noticed my little snafu, (and, of course, He ain’t a telling).

Pt. 2

Safely back in my own car, I touched the ignition button, and drove out of the parking lot. And as I pulled into traffic a slowly unfolding blog began, well, unfolding in my mind.

While it seemed altogether inconceivable that my car fob had been capable of unlocking the wrong vehicle, I was convinced that is exactly what it had done. (Of course, it is possible that the stranger’s car had been left unlocked, but why would anyone leave their ‘ride’ unlocked with so much merchandise in the seat and on the floor)?

I was in the wrong car at the right time. And in spite my “accidental like” B&E (legal term) I was suddenly in a position to walk away (or drive away) with not only some potentially valuable merchandise that wasn’t mine, but with the four-wheeled conveyance itself.

And, indeed, I might have done exactly that had my “magical” key fob been capable of starting the stranger’s car, and had I decided I preferred the wrong car more than the right one.

And as strange and foolish as this decision may have been, as a counselor I have encountered far too many clients who have made rashly inconceivable decisions which ended up very badly.

I refer to this sort of behavior as “Short Term Satisfaction vs. Long Term Results.”

But I believe far too many people are prone to emulate such a recurring behavior pattern. For whether “accidental like” or a premeditated action, far too many people walk around with this mindset. Given the unexpected or expected opportunity to “get in the wrong car,” admire the merchandise, and drive away, they will choose short term satisfaction and “drive away” every time.

And, of course, the “wrong car” might easily correspond to involving one’s self in an affair, the use of illegal substances,  taking something which doesn’t belong to us, or simply robbing God by failing to fulfill one’s destiny.

As scripture assures us,

“These things ought not to be.”

Afterward

I love the admonition of Ephesians 4:22,24.

“Take off the old man. Put on the new man.”

An equally valid interpretation of that passage is,

“Take off the old mindset. Put on the new mindset.”

Very much like (purposely) taking off a dirty shirt at the end of your work day, and (purposely) putting on a clean shirt.

As believers I think we have an obligation to do what we do “on purpose.” We are all responsible to embrace an “on purpose” mindset. For if we are prone to recurring bouts of “getting in the wrong car” and driving it away we are likely to wreck our lives and the lives of those whom we love best.

Whatever we do we must do “on purpose.” Only wrecks happen “accidental like.”

by William McDonald, PhD. Copyright pending

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Afterward

I love the admonition of Ephesians 4:22,24.

“Take off the old man. Put on the new man.”

An equally valid interpretation of that passage is,

“Take off the old mindset. Put on the new mindset.”

Very much like (purposely) taking off a dirty shirt at the end of your work day, and (purposely) putting on a clean shirt.

As believers I think we have an obligation to do what we do “on purpose.” We are all responsible to embrace an “on purpose” mindset. For if we are prone to recurring bouts of “getting in the wrong car” and driving it away we are likely to wreck our lives and the lives of those whom we love best.

Whatever we do we must do “on purpose.” Only wrecks happen “accidental like.”

OH YES, I WAS THE GUARD

 

OH YES, I WAS THE GUARD

A Poem dedicated to the memory

of SGT Tracey Darlene Brogdon. National Guardswoman. K.I.A., Saudi Arabia, 1^st Gulf War

SSG William Royce McDonald (Ret.)

 

He trod the snow with Washington,

his feet were numb with pain

He fired the shot heard round the world,

the prize he sought, he gained

 

My brother wore the Union blue,

as he climbed Henry Hill

My comrade word the Rebel gray,

as his heart lay cold and still

 

The Guardsman packed his duffel bag

at Uncle Sam’s request

Through years to come the Fueher’s men

would give him little rest

 

In the skies of Vietnam,

his wings were swept with fog

A missile arced, a pilot died,

and touched the face of God

 

Someone tapped her shoulder

and said, “It is your turn,”

In his hand a worn baton,

“The race is not quite won.”

 

And though she would lose family,

and though she would lose friends

And though she would lose life itself,

her hand she did extend

 

Her teammate was still struggling

to match her faster gait

And as he passed baton to her,

he fell to seal his fate

 

And as she clutched that hallowed prize,

the wood was red and scarred

He whispers as he ends his watch,

“Oh yes, I was the Guard”

 

It was her turn to run the race,

beneath a foreign sun

Her ship had weathered every rack,

the prize she sought, she won

 

It was her turn to set the pace

across the burning sand

What Guard will dare to take her place,

which one extends his hand?

AN ILLUSTROUS MASTER

Matthew 18:4 Whoever, therefore, humbles himself as this little child, the same is the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven.

Hudson Taylor was scheduled to speak at a Large Presbyterian church in Melbourne, Australia. The moderator of the service introduced him in the most eloquent and glowing terms. He told the large congregation all that Taylor had accomplished in China, and then presented him as “our illustrious guest.” Taylor stood quietly for a moment, and then opened his message by saying, “Dear friends, I am the little servant of an illustrious Master.”

If we want to do great things for the Lord, it is crucial that we become humble before Him! When we realize that we are but little servants of an illustrious Master -- it is then that God will use us in a mighty way. After all, it is not our agendas, our purposes, our plans that God wants to bless --- it's God's agenda -- God's plan -- God's purpose for our lives that He will bless to overflowing!

Let's humble ourselves, get "little" before the Lord today and get our minds set on His purpose instead of our own.

(from a ministry newsletter)