YouTube - 7 Wonders of the World.wmv

YouTube - 7 Wonders of the World.wmv

IN God's Image

This is a draft. I am interested in others responce. I reserve the right to change it and my mind.

In our Wednesday night small group meeting this week we were discussing Evil. At some point in the discuss Sharon ask what does it mean if we are "made in God's image". I said that I thought it meant that we are able to choose. Two other thought it was that we love. I have been chewing on this idea since that conversation. I donot disagree that we love, but as with many things it is a bit more complicated.

Love is a verb. It is only meaningful when a choice is made to act upon that feeling. Love is a relational. If I feel love for someone, but never express it in voice or deed it is meaningless. We must choose to act upon that feeling to have meaning. God created us, that is for me one of his great acts of love. He chose to create us. He chose through Christ to redeem up. This is how we know he loves us.

We can make similar choices that express our love. We are most in God's image when we choose to love the unlovable. In Matthew 5 Jesus say:

But I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your brothers, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.

God calls to not to love, but to choose to love. Who feels love towards their enemy? We have to make that choice. It is in that choosing that we are most in the image of God.

Dad, a son's tribute

My good friend Al passed away last night. I am so glad he has gone to be with his beloved Maxine, whom he has missed so deeply. Today is also the memorial service for another good friend, John, who passed away in February. Both of these men were members of my father's generation of World War II veterans. Al was a U.S. Marine and John was a navy vet like my dad. My dad was a Pearl Harbor survivor, lived through the depression and made me one of the first of the baby boomers. When my mother and father celebrated their fiftiest wedding aniversary in 1992, I wrote this poem to share with my family. At my father's funeral in 1994 I read it again as my tribute to my dad. Many years later, my dear friend Barb's father died. He was a member of the 101st airborne who fought at the Battle of the Bulge. I was moved to share this poem at his memorial as it expresses for me the true grace and humanity of these men who came to our country's call and then went back to their quiet lives. Lives of consequence. This is for all of those who were members of that Greatest Generation.

Dad
"We choose to say good-bye against our will ... " Departing Words to a Son by Robert Pack

Sitting snoring in his chair
is just an every day affair
an ordinary scene of normalcy
no picture of greatness there
just the quiet thunder
the nodding of his head
the rise and fall of consciousness
the rest of ordinary men

No picture of greatness there?
History is carved into that face
carved into every line
a map of Twentieth Century history
made by men such as he
called not by ambition's driven voice
often not by any choice
but by uncaring circumstance

II
The words I learned in History
were the days that he lived
the sod house (where he was born)
Depression (postponing a scholar's quest)
CCC
December 7, 1941
(3 days from discharge, marriage, a job, a life)
the War in the Pacific
VJ Day
Baby boom
Cold War
Computer Age
Recession
Mid-life Career Change
lived in quiet courage
courage born of Doing
Doing what must be done

III
Ordinary men live the great moments of history
then leave the stage to those called great
to protect their ordinary lives
to live day to day
hour to hour
to sleep in quiet anonymity
heads nodding in their chair
just the quiet thunder
reminding us they're here.

Copyright 1992 by Martin Craig Jones

I Love You and God Loves You

I have been struggling with an article for the Pursuits over the last two days. I could not translate what has been going on in my heart and my head into words on a page. For the last couple of weeks I have been chewing on words from Peter’s sermon. He said when his sister died in a tragic accident, that what he needed from friends was to hear, “I love you and God loves you”. I have experienced two tragic accidents in my life, the death of my wife and the near death of my daughter in an automobile accident. It took me year to come to terms with the first tragedy. One of the reasons was I never hear those words, in fact I heard little about God or Love after that accident. The most common response I heard was let’s try to put the pain, hurt, and grief behind us and move on. That did not work well and I spiraled into alcohol, drugs, depression and suicide. It took years to recover, years that I blamed God and denied the One who loved me the most, never left me and was my only hope for redemption.

How different it was when Michelle had her accident. The response of our church family was immediate, simple and profound. When a parent fears they are losing a child, there are no comforting words that take away the fear and the grief What we needed was to know that we were not alone, that it mattered to God and others that we were hurting, frightened and vulnerable. This church family reached out to us and did just that. It was important that they were there, not that they had answers. What was amazing was that we also heard from unexpected places that same message. A convent in New Orleans wrote us that they were praying for us, a prayer circle of women prisoners in Eastern Oregon wrote us that they were praying for us, and a lady from Scio who did not know us, but had read about Michelle came and sat with us one day. She had had a dear one experience a traumatic brain injury and knew how lonely the vigil was as you waited for someone to emerge from a coma.

I was reminded of that this morning. I woke up to a phone call from my dear friend Barb wanting to know how I was. I was confused, but I heard “I love you and God loves you in her voice. It turned out that she had been listening to the news. There was an accident in the Springfield and one of the drivers was named Derek Jones (my second son’s name.) I immediately called my son and found out that, fortunately, it was not him. By that time I had a call from our pastor, Peter and an email from our secretary, Sally. I suppose one could be upset to be put through that, but I was not. I was so thankful that my church family reached out so quickly and so lovingly. I will spend much of today praying that those involved in this accident. I pray that they are hearing, “I love you and God loves you”.

Why I do it.

In the early 1990's I received a new student in my eighth grade class. Jerry had been attending another nearby school, but he had been suspended for behavior problems. His parents wanted to put him in a different environment to see if that would help him. Our country school had small classes and a structured, but friendly environment. His parents met with the principal and me to explain the problems had started a year ago, after Jerry had been involved in an automobile accident. He had been unconscious for a short time after the accident and had other minor injuries. He returned to school soon after the accident and began having problems in the classroom. I told the parents I was sure that we could help them. We couldn't.

Jerry had outbursts in the classroom where he would begin shouting and swearing over seemingly small issues. He got angry easily and unpredictably. He had trouble remembering things from one day to the next. He had wild emotional swings. We worked hard to find something to help him gain control of his emotions and behavior. He would promise to try, but nothing seemed to work.

Finally during an art fair we were having in the school gym, he refused to follow the directions of one of the instructional assistants. He refused her directions to go to time out. I overheard the confrontation and came to assist her. He refused to follow my directions and began swearing. Without touching him I tried to herd him away from the assistant and the other students. He began to move away and then turned and gave me a two-handed shove that sent me sprawling onto the gym floor. At that point the principal appeared and he and I physically removed Jerry. It was his last day in our school, he was expelled for pushing me. I was at a loss to explain why we couldn't reach him.

In April of 1994 I came home after work and started doing some yard work. Our older kids were at play practice at the high school. Derek was acting in the play "Into The Woods", and Michelle was in the pit orchestra. I heard Trudy call me and as I looked at her I saw a look of horror on her face. She handed me the phone and the woman on the other end identified herself as the emergency room physician at Lebanon Hospital. She asked if I had a 17 year old daughter with blond hair and burn scars on her chest. Trembling I stuttered, "Y-Y-Y-Yes". She explained that Michelle had been in an automobile wreck and had suffered an head injury. They had stabilized her and transported her by ambulance to Salem Memorial Hospital. She said that we should get there as quickly as possible and could not give us a prognosis.

I was shaken to my very core. I trembled so hard I could not dial the number she had given me for the hospital and had to call the operator and have her connect me. They gave me direction to the hospital, but I barely remembered what they said. We had to call the high school and have them send Derek home. We had to call a friend to borrow her car as our remaining car (Michelle had driven the family car to school) would not hold all of us.

We raced to Salem and took the wrong exit. We had to ask for directions at a grocery store. We raced through the streets of Salem to the hospital. It is a huge hospital, but when we went in the front entrance, someone asked if we were Michelle's parents. We said yes and they led us to a room near the ER. A nurse came in and asked if we knew what had happen. We replied no, we just knew she had been hurt in an accident. She explained that Michelle had sustain a traumatic brain injury and was in a coma. We were stunned. This was some horrible movie or dream.

She took us in to see Michelle and we expected to see a bloody, mangled mess, but what we saw was worse in many ways. She looked perfectly normal, but asleep. She had some minor injuries, a cut over the eye and a burn on her ring finger, but she appeared to just be asleep. There was nothing we could do to help her. So began a long journey for her and for us. Four months of coma, 7 months of hospitalization, five years of rehabilitation, counseling, and relearning.

Over the next few weeks, I desperately tried to find out what had happened. We called the police, the sheriff, the fire department, the emergency room. No one would talked to us, because of the possibility of litigation. We got the basic information about the accident from the newspaper story and a little from friends and friends of friends who knew pieces of the story. I was desperate to know what happened, had Michelle been alone and in pain while waiting for the ambulance, what had happened to cause the accident and all those things that parents worry about.

Finally in August, while Michelle was in Seattle at a specialized nursing facility for brain injured adults, we received a phone call. The women who called asked if we were the parents of Michelle and inquired if we wanted to know more about the accident. We said we were and we did. We arranged to meet her later that week. When she gave me her name, something was familiar about it. I couldn't place her, but I felt I knew her. The feeling wouldn't leave me as we walked up to her apartment, but it was not a familiar place. We knocked and the door opened. There stood Jerry's mom.

She had been following the car that was following Michelle, she explained. Michelle had tried to pass a slower car, but had not seen that her view was obstructed where the road dipped down through a creek bed. Just as she got beside the car she was passing, a truck came up out of the dip and hit her car. Jerry's mom stopped, got out of her car and ran to Michelle's side of the car. Michelle was not breathing well. Other witnesses said that they should get her out of the car, but Jerry's mom said no she should not be moved until the ambulance arrived. She then sat and held her until the paramedics arrived.

Over the next twelve years I began to work with a group of educators to help students and parents dealing with Traumatic Brain Injury. I became a consultant to schools and parents working with children who had suffered traumatic brain injuries and who were attempting to reenter school. I have spoken to educators and parents all over Oregon, Arizona and Washington, D.C. and I always begin my conversations with this story. It is my motivation for educating teachers and parents about TBI. I was not able to help Jerry because I knew nothing about TBI and how TBI impacted children and their families. Yet when my daughter needed someone to protect her and comfort her, Jerry's mom knew what to do and was the first to come to her aid. Reaching out to other families in pain has been my way to thank her and to atone for my failure.

Hannah Grace

My Valentine

I don't believe in love at first sight. Love takes a lot of hard work to be real. I do believe in trusting your heart and the first time I met Trudy I knew I wanted to get to know her better. She is what I would call an invitational person. She invites all around her to get to know her better. She is open and friendly, without the need to impress you.

As we began to date, I realized that with her I was finally comfortable with someone again. Two years before, I had lost my first wife, Kathy, to Carbon Monoxide poisoning. I was so distraught that I vowed I would never marry again. I was uncomfortable around other, especially single women. Now I found someone who made me feel ok.

For the first few months, I still said, "This is nice, but I can't get too close because I can't handle being hurt again". I nearly took my own life after Kathy's death. I sat at my desk with a loaded pistol and pointed it at my head. Luckily I couldn't go through with it. The traumatic stress was too much for me to bear. Nobody I knew could understand the feeling. Most of what they shared were shallow platitudes.

Trudy changed me not by taking away the hurt, but by filling me up. She was open, hopeful, and loving. More than any one I had ever met, she accepted and loved me for who I was and am. I did not feel I had to be more than who I was, I was ok, warts and all. Her beautiful acceptance was amazing. The more I was around her, the more comfortable I became with myself. I was full of a tremendous guilt that I had lived and Kathy had died. Trudy gave me space, time and reason to deal with that guilt, pain and loss. She never tried to save me with shallow psychology, but just gave me reason to live and love again.

This year we will have been married thirty nine years. I am amazed at how long that is. I love her more today than I ever have. It has not be easy, I am not an easy person to love, but she has show amazing strength in dealing with me and showing me Grace beyond understanding. Most of what I understand about God's love and grace, I learned by watching Trudy.

I Love You, Trudy.

Child-like not Childish

Matthew 18:2-4 (New International Version)
2 He called a little child and had him stand among them. 3 And he said: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. 4Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.

Children have always been some of my best mentors. As a teacher, I always learned a lot from my students. Now, as a grand father I am learning a lot from my grand daughters. I always had difficulty with this passage because I confused child-like with childish. Being considered childish is something I dread. I don’t want to be embarrassed, I have too much pride. Lately I have been spending a lot of time with my Granddaughter Emily, babysitting while mom and dad are at work. She is 21 months old and a busy, independent little girl. We have become quite close and my heart leaps when I open the door to her house and she lights up with a smile and laughs, “Grampi”. She does not have to do anything special to earn my love; I love her because she is. She does not try to impress me about how good she is, she just takes for granted I love her and she is good enough the way she is. She trusts me. She comes to me with what ever need she has: hunger, hurt, messy diaper or the need to laugh. She doesn’t try to earn it, she just trusts that I love her and will provide. It has been my struggle to see God this way, to just trust Him and know that He loves me and will provide.

Simple Joys

Tomorrow I get to play with my grand daughters, Emily and Hannah. It is amazing what I will do just to have time with them. It is forty five miles there and forty five miles back and I think nothing of it. Monday I was their all day by myself and by four o'clock when their father returned I was wiped out. But here I go back and looking forward to it. They bring back the joy of such simple things.

Emily is 21 months old. She loves to swing at the park and while she swings, she says, "Wheeeee!" When I hear her I am filled and complete. What could be better than completely giving yourself over to the simple joys of the moment and just saying wheeeeeeee!

Hannah just turned 4 months and has the most captivating blue gray eyes. She is just starting to interact with those around her. Monday she was making sounds in reponse to me talking to her and smiling back at me. Just that simple droning sound kept me entertained all afternoon. A simple joy of the moment. All I could say was "wheeeeeeeeee!"