My busy week proceeds, but I will stop to note that yesterday was the birthday of writer Jack Schaefer (1907-1991) who, as you know, wrote the novel Shane, published in 1949. The book ends differently than the movie…
Out of the heart of the great glowing West…Good stuff.
Speaking of Wyoming, daughter #1 returns from a business trip to Gillette today. However, she will not be home in time to pick up Mr. Smith at the kennel, so I will do that. It is supposed to rain all day and Mr. Smith has a thing about windshield wipers, so pray that he doesn’t go all Westie on me and tear up my car or force me to drive off the road. I kid you not.
I have had a very busy week so far and yesterday was particularly aggravating. I had to go down to the monolithic and intimidating BJS medical center where parking is always an adventure. I had to wait for over an hour for my appointment which took 10 minutes. Zut alors! but c’est la vie. After that, I went to the Link Auction house, also in the CWE, and picked up some items I had won at last weekend’s auction. I could not fit it all in my car so I will have to go back today. (The boy had to come over to my house and help me get one large item out of my car!) Life is complicated.
Driving home from the CWE, I avoided the highway since it had been jammed up going down to the city, so I was once again shocked to see the devastation from the May 16 tornado in Forest Park. All the big trees are just gone from Lindell Blvd and all the way down Wydown in Clayton. Many of the mansions still have boarded up windows and tarps on the roofs. Mother Nature can sure be rough. But she helps us keep our perspective.
And then, last night, I had a Kirkwood Historical Society board meeting, so I was out after dark! Good grief, Charlie Brown!
I will stop grousing now in order to remind you that today is the birthday of Mikhail Ippolitov-Ivanov, the Russian composer, born in 1859. He was a student of Rimsky-Korsakov, whose influence was quite strong. I remember this selection from records we listened to in my childhood:
Enjoy!
Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. –I Peter 5:6-7
(The photo at the top is of a scene typical of the arrangements I find when the wee laddie has visited my house. He came with his Dad yesterday.)
Both of my Christmas cactuses are budding, right on schedule! Isn’t that something? This made me think of Walt Whitman. I agree with him about miracles.
Why, who makes much of a miracle? As to me I know of nothing else but miracles, Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan, Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky, Or wade with naked feet along the beach just in the edge of the water, Or stand under trees in the woods, Or talk by day with any one I love, or sleep in the bed at night with any one I love, Or sit at table at dinner with the rest, Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car, Or watch honey-bees busy around the hive of a summer forenoon, Or animals feeding in the fields, Or birds, or the wonderfulness of insects in the air, Or the wonderfulness of the sundown, or of stars shining so quiet and bright, Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring; These with the rest, one and all, are to me miracles, The whole referring, yet each distinct and in its place.
To me every hour of the light and dark is a miracle, Every cubic inch of space is a miracle, Every square yard of the surface of the earth is spread with the same, Every foot of the interior swarms with the same.
To me the sea is a continual miracle, The fishes that swim—the rocks—the motion of the waves—the ships with men in them, What stranger miracles are there?
The weather has been unseasonably warm and beautiful for November–blue sky, orange trees, temps in the 70s! Daughter #1 and I sat out on a lovely patio on Friday afternoon and enjoyed a glass of wine–in November! Then we drove out to Wildwood and enjoyed pizza night with the boy and his family. Lovely.
The rest of the weekend was fairly quiet. I finished a D.E. Stevenson book and watched the leaves float down. I watched the new Kevin James movie–Playdate–on Prime. I’m not saying it’s a great movie, but I enjoyed it.
A “buddy action comedy movie”, it is about two dads and their sons who are targeted by mercenaries. There is no bad language, no sex, no politics, and very little real violence. It held my interest for 90 minutes. And the first scene takes place at a lacrosse game. Why don’t they make more movies like this?
On Sunday I went to church and heard a great sermon on Philippians 4:2-9.
2 I entreat Euodia and I entreat Syntyche to agree in the Lord. 3 Yes, I ask you also, true companion, help these women, who have labored side by side with me in the gospel together with Clement and the rest of my fellow workers, whose names are in the book of life.
4 Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice. 5 Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; 6 do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. 7 And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
8 Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. 9 What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me—practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you.
Think about these things. Practice these things. The Lord is near. Wow. And Wow.
My adult ed class was about the diaconate. We have 14 deacons at my church and they really walk the walk. Presbyterian polity, which was developed as a rejection of governance by hierarchies of single bishops, also differs from the congregational polity in which each congregation is independent. In contrast to the other two forms, authority in the presbyterian polity flows both from the top down (as higher assemblies exercise limited but important authority over individual congregations, e.g., only the presbytery can ordain ministers, install pastors, and start up, close, and approve relocating a congregation) and from the bottom up (e.g., the moderator and officers are not appointed from above but are rather elected by and from among the members of the assembly). Brilliant. This theory of governance was developed in Geneva under John Calvin and was introduced to Scotland by John Knox. Presbyterians view this method of government as approximating that of the New Testament and earliest churches. In our church, deacons exercise responsibility for practical matters of the building and grounds and administer the welfare matters of the congregation. Members who are in need are helped by the deacons. These men are the faith in action team.
We had a productive time in Illinois earlier this week. I successfully painted the trim and vanity in Susie’s powder room without destroying anything and hopefully the wallpaper man will respond to her texts soon!
Ahead of the trip, I decided that for future visits when I bring Mr. Smith, I should really find somewhere to board him or doggy daycare so that he gets some activity. With that in mind, I called the one place in town. They require a temperament evaluation–which on the one hand I understand and on the other made me laugh. In order to get one, I first had to get him a vaccine that he doesn’t already have for some reason. Yes, the process was basically as complicated as registering him for kindergarten.
No surprise, he passed the temperament evaluation with flying colors. Also, there is a Westie at the daycare named Winston Smith. And this has already caused confusion when trying to schedule his daycare days. How is this my life?! You have to laugh.
In other exciting (read not) news, I am traveling to Wyoming next week to give two separate press tours of the mine. I ordered a new parka and will bring my steel-toed boots. I will also find my hat, gloves, a scarf, and some big socks. I will no doubt be channeling the little brother in A Christmas Story.
And enjoy these memes I found saved in my screenshots folder.
The boy texted me this photo of the Northern Lights taken in his neighborhood the other night. I rushed outside but nothing was visible at my house. Pretty cool, I must say.
You may recall that November 13, 1833 was the “the night the stars fell.” This phenomenal event, one of the greatest meteoric displays on record, was viewed with awe and a degree of superstitious respect across the country. The Missouri Republican reported: “The air was filled with brilliant and innumerable meteors, shooting lawless through the sky, illuminating the earth, ad then passing off to the West.” Many thought the event was the fulfillment of the Scriptures, “when portents shall come of wars and rumors of wars.” Near Independence, Missouri, in Clay County, a refugee Mormon community watched the meteor shower on the banks of the Missouri River after having been driven from their homes by local settlers. Joseph Smith, the leader and founder of Mormonism, afterwards noted in his journal for November 1833 his belief that this event was “a litteral [sic] fulfillment of the word of God” and a harbinger of the imminent second coming of Christ.
A Missouri journalist later recounted the story of how the meteoric shower had restored freedom to a captive black whom a group of farmers had kidnapped. They were awaiting a steamboat to ship the man to a slave trader when the meteor display made the trees and even the river seem to be on fire. The farmers thought that Judgment Day had caught them in the dishonorable act of “running south” a free black man. They let him go. Praise the Lord!
(The Meteor of 1860 by Frederic Edwin Church) Imagine a thousand times that!
I watched The Best Years of Our Lives (1946)–one of the best movies about veterans ever made and well worth watching almost 80 years later.
Over a million American service members have laid down their lives for the country, and their sacrifice will never be forgotten. Here’s one veteran’s story.
The other day I mentioned the story of Billy Graham going to see the dying Steve McQueen and that truly is a great story. But the even better part of all that was how the flight instructor over time converted the questioning Steve into a “born again” Christian. I know quite a few people like that flight instructor now–“ordinary” men who take Mark 16:15 very seriously in their daily lives. One such guy is Bill who was an executive at some big engineering firm. He is a piano-tuner now (in retirement) and he evangelizes quietly everywhere he goes, just talking to people. He is not ashamed of the Gospel. No sir. He sees it as his duty to spread the Word.
The Billy Grahams of this world are wonderful, but it is the Bills among us who do the real work where the rubber meets the actual road.
And here’s a song for Monday–the great Mark Knopfler singing the great Bob Dylan:
Oh, a false clock tries to tick out my time To disgrace, distract and bother me And the dirt of gossip blows into my face And the dust of rumors covers me
[Chorus] But if the arrow is straight and the point is slick It can pierce through dust no matter how thick So I’ll make my stand and remain as I am And bid farewell and not give a damn
(Meanwhile we made it to the prairie–where it has turned cold and even snowy!–and we went to church where daughter #2 and the girls became members along with a dozen others.)
We are surrounded by God’s benefits. The best use of these benefits is an unceasing expression of gratitude. –John Calvin
Daughter #1 and I are heading up to the prairie again on Saturday so that we can go to church with daughter #2. She and the girls are officially joining along with other new members. I’m really looking forward to this and attending what Ida refers to as, the “Hallelujah Church”. I am so thankful they have found a church where the Word of God is its foundation. Hallelujah, indeed.
Today we remember Steve McQueen who died on this day in 1980. You will recall that Steve met with Billy Graham a few days prior to his death. The year before he had gotten to know pilot Sammy Mason when he was teaching Steve to fly. He noticed something authentic and genuine about the pilot and his close-knit family. Mason was able to explain that a personal relationship with Jesus Christ had made the difference in his life. Steve started showing up at Mason’s church, the Ventura Missionary Baptist Church, which he eventually joined, and reading scripture with the pastor and Mason. Eleven months later He was diagnosed with cancer. Hearing that Billy Graham was in California, he reached out to the evangelist for a possible meeting. Graham spent some time with Steve and drove with him to the airport before being flown to a hospital in Mexico. Steve shared his story with Graham. Having misplaced his Bible, Graham inscribed his own Bible and gave it to Steve before they prayed together. Four days later, Steve was found with Billy’s Bible cradled on his chest. He had died in his sleep. Praise the Lord.
It is the season when we are especially tuned into thankfulness and this article talks about prioritizing gratitude, especially in today’s culture. “A life of gratitude is especially difficult in a culture such as ours that exalts the proud, despises humility, and enthrones self as the highest authority. In a world consumed by indifference and lack of appreciation, Christians can engage in a moment-by-moment protest of thankfulness. Persistent gratitude will set us apart from the world, making us salty to a self-indulgent culture (Matt. 5:13).”
