God Lessons

I have heard the story of the guy who prayed to God to teach him patience.  In return the individual received into his life situations . . . frustrating situations that tested his patience . . . over and over again.  God was teaching the man what he wanted—patience.  God seems to have a wicked sense of humor.  Ever since I heard that story I have made sure that I never prayed to God for patience.

But God seems to have a unique way in teaching us lessons.

One of the hobbies that the wife and I have engaged in is bird feeding.  We have various bird feeders throughout the yard to supply the “least of these” creatures with food throughout the year—especially the winter.  And, for our efforts we have been blessed with a huge variety of birds gracing our feeders: Lazuli Buntings, the Gray Catbird, Black-capped and Mountain Chickadees, Red Crossbills, Mourning Doves, Cassin’s Finch, Northern Flickers, Goldfinch, Common Gackles, Evening Grosbeaks, a Loggerhead Shrike, Dark-eyed Junco, Magpies, Clark’s Nutcracker, Red and White-breasted Nuthatches, Bullock’s Orioles, Robins, Gray-crowned Rosy-Finch, Chipping Sparrows, House Sparrows, European Starlings, Western Tangers, Downy Woodpeckers, Hairy Woodpeckers, and the Pinyon Jay.  I must admit that I enjoy our hobby, and I especially enjoy the way that it feeds into my other hobby of photography.  Over the years the gathering of the flocks has provided me with a bevy of wonderful pictures of some of the most beautiful creations I have ever seen.  For the most part it has been a blessing.

I say, “for the most part”, because of one flock of birds that seems to have created a major frustration in our bird feeding hobby . . . and that bird is the Pinyon Jay (pictured above).  The Pinyon Jay is a pretty bird with a blue-gray coloring and it takes wonderful photographs.  God did some pretty fine handiwork with the Pinyon Jay, but . . . yeah, I know, God doesn’t like us using the “but” argument . . . BUT, the Pinyon Jay is the most gluttonous bird I have ever encountered . . . they are the bird version of the Hell’s Angels the way that they come flying in and making waste to whatever feeder they are at . . . they have no respect for any other of the winged creatures of God’s hand, often bullying the smaller and more timid birds away from the feeders so that they can bring a feeding frenzy upon the feeders.  Pinyon Jays are a “flock” bird.  By that I mean that they mate up and run around in flocks of about fifty pairings . . . or a hundred birds.  In the winter the flocks come together and create communities of up to 300 birds.  There is power in numbers and the Pinyon Jays often have the numbers.

Pinyon Jays also eat anything and everything that is in a bird feeder . . . they have never found a meal that they didn’t like.  They can empty out several bird feeders in minutes and have the gall to sit there and demand more.  All the while the other birds go hungry.  I wish that they could be like the other birds that frequent the feeders by showing a little respect, sharing the feed, and taking turns . . . but, NO!  They have embraced the seventh deadly sin—gluttony—and made it their own.

Pinyon Jays make me mad.  Pinyon Jays have driven to the edge of hatred . . . hatred of them.  In the beginning I took the philosophical route . . . the so-called “Christian” route . . . that believed that God created all these wonderful creatures—these birds—and that they all need to eat . . . so, let them eat.  That sucked.  Pinyon Jays don’t know when to quit eating . . . so they bully the other birds by sheer numbers and they whip through a fifty-pound bag of sunflower seeds in less than a week.  They would make any major league baseball team look like rookies when it comes to sunflower seeds.  Sunflower seeds are like crack to Pinyon Jays.  And, sunflower seeds are not cheap.  So, their behavior is not the only hurting me, but it is affecting my wallet.  I get a little touchy when any of God’s creatures start messing with my wallet.  The heck with let the birds eat!  Heck with letting all of God’s creatures eat!  I say, shoot ‘em!

Despite our frustration with the Pinyon Jays, the wife won’t let me shoot them.  I can throw a rock in their direction to scare them . . . or slam the door to scare them . . . or run outside like a screaming lunatic (which has worked at keeping the neighbors away, but has had no effect on the Pinyon Jays) . . . but, not only are the Pinyon Jays gluttonous, they are smart.  They have a system.  While the mass of the Pinyon Jays descend upon the feeders, they stake out the area with scouts . . . scouts that warn the flock of impending danger . . . and, scouts that let them know that the coast is clear.  Unless one has an hour to kill it is almost a worthless endeavor to try and scare the Pinyon Jays away . . . there are too many of them.  They out-number you . . . and, they are more patient.  As pretty as they are . . . they have brought me close to the edge of hatred.

Hate is a powerful word . . . one that the wife and I taught our children as unacceptable in relationships and in life . . . but, here I am on the brink of hatred . . . and, I am wondering what in the world God is trying to teach me.  The Pinyon Jays . . . despite the words of bird experts in the big city promising us that they will go away . . . will not go away.  They mock me.  I have tried the philosophical route . . . the Christian route . . . the Zen route . . . the bird lover’s route . . . I have tried to ignore them . . . we have removed the feeders and bought feeders that they are not supposed to be able to get into . . . and, they keep coming.  Nothing works!  What . . . what is God trying to teach me!

This brings me to the second “for the most part” . . . the neighbor’s cat.  We never imagined that our “bird feeders” would become “cat feeders” . . . but, since the neighbors move in about half-a-year ago, we have made a regular buffet of select birds for their cat.  I imagine that the neighbor’s cat thought it had died and gone to heaven when it moved in next door to us . . . birds for the choosing with little or no effort.  At least once a week there is a pile of feathers in our yards marking the demise of another bird thanks to the cat.  But, I have to admit; at least the cat is an equal opportunity killer and has no trouble with killing any bird that makes itself available for a snack. 

The neighbor’s response?  That is what cats do . . . they kill things like birds and mice.  It is a part of their DNA.  The killing is scaring off the birds . . . and, this is frustrating.  It is especially frustrating when the cat comes and lies at the food of the feeders in wait . . . it is amazing how poorly birds see and never see that cat until it is too late.  I have gone several routes with the cat . . . I have scared the cat off . . . I have thrown rocks at the cat to scare it off . . . yelled, screamed, and chased it (darn cat is fast) . . . and yet, it continues to kill.  Like the Pinyon Jays, I am closing in on hating that cat.

So, what is God trying to teach me?  What is the lesson God wants me to learn?

Is God attempting to teach me about the circle of life?  Is God attempting to teach me patience?  Is God trying to show me that all God’s critters got a place in the world?  That maybe the wife and I should give up bird feeding as a hobby and take up something more constructive like planting a rock garden?  I don’t know . . .

Or, is God giving me a solution through the two frustrations . . . through the Pinyon Jays and the cat.  It has dawned on me that if I could only catch the cat . . . keep the cat for a few days . . . and train it.  Train it to kill Pinyon Jays.  That way I could kill two birds with one stone.  The problem would be solved.  All the other birds would have plenty to eat without having to worry about being bullied, and the cat would have its game and food.  There are plenty of Pinyon Jays to go around.  The wife and I would no longer be on the brink of hatred or frustration . . . and, we could hang onto our good “Christian” values . . . we could save face.

The only problem is . . . I can’t catch the stupid cat.  It is scared of me, but not of the birds.  Plus, the Pinyon Jays are too smart . . . remember, they have scouts watching out for each other.  The cat would never have a chance . . . besides, one cat against hundreds of Pinyon Jays would probably resemble something out of Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds.

In the meantime, I guess I will continue to ponder what the lesson is that God is attempting to teach me.  I will shoo the Pinyon Jays away only to know that they will return.  I will shoo the cat away only to know that the cat will kill again and again.  I will continue to watch the dollars fly out of my wallet.  And, I will go through my mind and think . . . think really hard . . . did I ask God to help me with my Pinyon Jay problem?  If so, will God let me take that prayer back?  Darn, maybe I asked God for patience . . . if so, I hope it comes soon!  

I Would Give My Soul If . . .

As parents we should have learned . . . children (no matter what age) have a tendency to break our hearts. 

I was reminded of this fact this past week after having had several discussions with people in my life.  The first one I was not actually involved in, but the wife shared her discussion with the daughter with me . . . so, by the fact that the wife and I are a team, I was privy to the discussion.  The daughter shared the frustration and confusion that she and our son-in-law were having over the now two-year old granddaughter.  It seems that she has practically converted—over night—from the sweet innocent toddler to a two-year old hellion who likes to throw temper tantrums and complete melt downs when she does not get her way.  Hmmmm, sounds a lot like her grandfather on her mother’s side!  The two think that they must be doing something wrong when it comes to parenting . . . that they are not good parents.  They wonder what they have done wrong.  It breaks their hearts.  Both the wife and I agree—and told them, the kid is normal . . . she is being a two-year old . . . she is testing the waters . . . learning and growing.  Besides, we reminded them, pay back is hell.  As grandparents all the wife and I could do was to reassure them that this too would pass . . . that it was a phase . . . and, try not to snicker too much as we said it.

The last conversation was with a couple about one of their adult sons.  The son has gotten himself into quite a mess once again . . . something that has happened before in his life; but, this time it is a nasty mess.  It involves the law.  It involves messy and broken relationships.  It involves lawyers, law enforcement, and judges.  As I talked with the mother of this child, she cried and said how much it was making her heart hurt . . . how she had lost twenty pound because she could not eat . . . how she and her husband had used what little money they had to help . . . and, how angry it was making her as the story and situation kept getting bigger and bigger with each new revelation.  Their hearts were breaking.

Broken hearts are a part of parenting.  I speak from experience as one who has broken the hearts of his parents, and as one who has had his heart broken as a parent.  Children, no matter what age they might be, always have the potential to break their parents’ hearts.  Again, since no manual is ever given out to new parents when it comes time to take their new born child home from the hospital, you won’t find that in any parenting book I know of . . . or on any label stuck on the foot of the child.  It is just something that parents have to learn . . . and learn it the hard way.

On the Facebook page, Humans of New York, a photographer by the name of Brandon goes around New York City taking portrait shots of people he encounters.  With each portrait he writes a brief blurb of his encounter with the individual.  Often these photographs and blurbs are quite powerful and meaningful . . . they make people stop and think.  Right now he is on a tour with the United Nations visiting countries and people.  You can check out his Facebook page at this link: https://www.facebook.com/humansofnewyork/info.  You can learn more at his website at this link: http://www.humansofnewyork.com/.  In his most recent post on Facebook he picture a man and his daughter.  The father has his arm around his daughter who apparently has a disability of some sort . . . from his statement it seems to be a mental disability . . . but the father insisted that the photographer take her picture.  He explained that her name mean “flower”.  It was the father’s statement that said it all to me—and probably every other person who is a parent, “I would give my soul if I could fix her brain.”

Out of a broken heart this father spoke the words that any parent would speak for his or her child . . . I would give my soul if . . . If I could fix her brain.  If I could stop the temper tantrums.  If I could stop the stupid choices.  If I could stop the pain of a broken relationship . . . a lost job . . . of drug or alcohol abuse . . . of a disability . . . of the meanness of life.  What parent would not give anything and everything to help his or her child when life is beating them down with a vengeance?  What parent does not know the pain of a broken heart caused by the very child or children that he or she loves beyond words?  We all would . . . and, we all have.

It was a rough week hearing the stories of family and friends.  A rough week of being there to see the broken pieces of heart and trying to help put all the pieces back together again.  Rough week because way too often these moments of confession often rip the scabs off of my own broken heart as a parent.  No words can be said to ease the pain of a broken heart.  The fact is . . . children are going to break our hearts as parents . . . sometimes over and over again.

So, what is a parent to do?

I am not really sure. 

I guess if I could wish anything upon parents to combat the broken hearts that children inflict throughout a life time, I would wish for them: patience, laughter, presence, and love.  Patience . . . patience to wait to see how things pan out, to see if the worse scenario happens (because it is human nature to think the worse) . . . to listen with an open mind and heart . . . and, to allow the child to return back home (as much spiritually as physically). 

Laughter . . . laughter is good for the soul and heart . . . if we are willing to give our souls away for the sake of our children, we might as well give one that is strong and filled with laughter. 

Presence . . . to be there . . . to be a reminder . . . to be a place of safety . . . to be home.  Presence . . . of the holy, whatever holy might be . . . to know the comfort of not being a lone . . . to feel the acceptance and grace whether it is warranted or deserved.  Presence to be in the moment.  Presence to be.

Love . . . yeah, whether we like it or not, love is always there.  It is always there in the deepest hurt inflicted . . . always there in the hottest anger . . . always there in the greatest disappointment . . . always there in the shards of a broken heart.  Love that is accepting, caring, and most of all challenging . . . challenging to do what needs to be done whether it feels right or wrong for all who are involved.

I would wish for all parents . . . patience, laughter, presence, and love.  None of these will stop a heart from breaking, but they will go a long ways in easing the pain and starting the healing process.

My mother used to have a favorite statement she liked to tell me whenever I seemed to be going through a round phase in my life: “This, too, shall pass.”  For the most part I think that my mother was right.  Most of the crap I have endured and experienced in my life has come and gone . . . but, she was wrong when it came to having one’s heart broken by a child.  True, the situation or circumstance might pass on, but the scars are always there to remind us parents of the heart being broken.  Yet, it is a part of being a parent . . . a part of life.  From it we learn and grow.  From it we discover a deeper level and commitment of love.  From it we grow closer. 

But, boy does it hurt.  I would give my soul if I could save anyone from ever having his or her heart broken by children . . . and, then again, maybe not.  My soul has been pretty beat up over the years . . . but, I would try.

Looking for #100

I like to read a weekly blog—Mike at Night—by Mike Hendricks.  Mike is a professor at a small community college in southwestern Nebraska.  I do not always agree with Mike, but he makes his readers think . . . and, I think that is a good chunk of what writing is supposed to be about . . . making the readers think.  His most recent blog came out the day after some pretty horrific things took place and were reported in the news.  In particular he mentioned the downing of the commercial jet over the border of Ukraine that killed all 298 people on board . . . the land invasion of Israel into Gaza . . . and, the bank robbery in California that ended with two of the three robbers and one hostage being killed.  This news and other news like this over time seemed to have made him cynical . . . he does not think that humanity will ever change . . . that this pattern of inhumanity, hatred, and violence will never end.  As he put it: “All of this happened within a few hours on July 17th, 2014. Even though most of the people in the world are trying to be good and live within the rules that society has created for them, many people aren't. Violent acts such as the ones committed yesterday have been committed since the birth of civilization and will continue to be as long as the world exists.”  

In his blog he writes that we humans go through different stages in life and that one of those stages is an unrealistic one of optimism . . . especially when it comes to the state of humanity and the world.  During this stage we think the best of humanity . . . we think that we can change the world and that the world can be changed . . . we think that peace has a chance.  In this stage of optimism he mentioned John Lennon’s song, Give Peace a Chance, as the ideal . . . that if everyone just tried it, it would happened.  Unfortunately, according to Mike, nothing has ever changed . . . and, he believes that it never will.  People shoot down airplanes filled with innocent people . . . wars are waged . . . and, people kill other people doing stupid things like robbing banks.  In his estimation, nothing changes . . . and, sadly, lots of people feel just like he feels.  Nothing seems to change, so let us just hang on until our tour of duty is completed.

His blog sadden me . . . I guess I must be an eternal optimist.

I took a class in journalism while I was in high school and learned a lot.  One of the things that I learned is that if you misspell a word in an article, you either correct it or keep doing it until people begin to think that maybe they are the ones who do not know how to the spell the word.  Keep doing it until people believe you . . . that has been my approach to writing ever since!  Later in life I learned about the 99^th monkey or 100^th monkey theory (which it is depends on who is telling the story).  It is a simple theory . . . a phenomenon in which a new behavior or idea is claimed to spread rapidly by unexplained means from one group to all related groups once a critical number of members of one group exhibit the new behavior or acknowledge the new idea.  In other words, it is done over and over again until it catches on . . . the only problem is no one knows for certain what the magical number is.

I believe.  I believe that one has to keep plugging away . . . plugging away until that magical number is found . . . plugging away until people believe . . . plugging away until it happens.  I believe that the world can be a better place . . . a safer place . . . a place of peace and justice and love.  I believe it can be the Kingdom of God as described by Jesus.  I believe that we can do it . . . we can do it if we never give up, never quit.  As I said, I am an optimist . . . eternally.

I believe, but it sure is getting lonely.  Like Mike, think that a lot of people have thrown in the towel when it comes to realizing the perfect world in which there is peace, justice, and no violence . . . a lot of people have given up and hope that maybe, just maybe, the next generation will get it fixed.  I also think that a lot of people give lip service to this idea of an ideal world in which humanity lives in harmony . . . it is easier said than done . . . and, it is the doing that is hard work.  Thus I think that people just jump over to the place where everyone else is . . . joins the crowd.  And, so, it gets lonely.  Someone once said, “It’s easy to stand with the crowd . . . it takes courage to stand alone.”

I cannot buy that the world . . . that humanity . . . that society in general, cannot change and be this ideal that so many of us embraced in our younger years.  I cannot buy that the world cannot change.  Because I cannot buy this cynical world view, I continue to search for that 100^th monkey . . . that 100^th person who is going to be the switch that turns the world, turns humanity onto that which could be.  I know that it can happen . . . I just don’t know when.

That is part of the problem . . . mass media and technology have made the human race impatient.  We want everything and we want it now.  We are not patient when it is not instantaneous . . . we get frustrated . . . we get grumpy . . . and, we quit.  We quit if there are not instant results.  As my mother used to tell me, “Patience, Prudence, patience.”  But ours is the call of the vulture who got tired of waiting for something to die so it could eat, “Patience my butt, I want to kill something!”  Realizing the Kingdom takes patience . . . lots of patience.

Because it takes patience all one can do is to go about the business of Kingdom building . . . of living peacefully . . . of seeking and doing justice . . . of loving one’s neighbors (who happen to be everyone).  It takes one person at a time . . . one person who just might be that 100^th monkey. 

I hope that there are others out there who have not given up . . . those who continue to live life in such a way that it is working towards the realization of the Kingdom.  I know that I will continue to strive towards finding that ideal world . . . one person at a time.  Are you the one?  Pass it on.