Choices, choices…

The days are full of frenetic activity–phones ringing with questions to be answered and orders to be entered, the door jangling every few moments as folks come and go, and in between, the bustle of regaining equilibrium.  There is no time to get ahead of the game, no leisure to take a quiet break with a cup of coffee, so I take quick sips between periods of communication on the phone and entries in the database.  Lunch is a farce, the odd sandwich eaten, inhaled seemingly, between tasks.  I can’t remember when I’ve had an uninterrupted period of time during the workday to sit and dine, ruminating lazily while discussing the day’s schedule or current events.

I’m still trying to decide if this is how I want it, or if it’s just the way things have to be.  A wise friend once reminded me that we do the things that are important to us.  The arguer in me immediately answers with the perpetual “but” and adds reason upon reason why our lives are filled with activity and then, I’m reminded that every one of the activities is the result of our choices.  In our business, choices in products to be sold result in a certain level of customer interaction…hours of operation distribute the customers differently throughout the day…media choices determine the scope of engagement, with one line for the telephone demanding a small amount of time, more lines adding to that, and national toll-free lines multiplying the attention needed exponentially…even the choice (or maybe especially the choice) to utilize the internet as a business medium adds innumerable hours of labor to the already crowded days.

This freedom to choose extends to our personal lives, as well as to our families and friends.  We choose to live in a certain neighborhood, enforcing on us the necessity of keeping a nice yard, trimming the shrubbery, and raking leaves.  Owning our own home, forces the expense of upkeep, paint, and taxes.  Having relationships with family and friends coerces us into social events, birthdays, anniversarys, and other scheduled activities, as well as a certain amount of financial obligation, to say nothing of the emotional commitment.  All of these requirements are the direct and indirect result of those choices.

The beauty of our lives is that we have the option of making these choices every day.  I hear of people who feel trapped by their lives and the regimen that seems to entangle them.  I’ve felt the sense of being cornered more than once myself.  But overarching those feelings and the despair that helplessness can leave in its wake, is the knowledge that we are here by choice.  We could opt, if we wished, to abandon it all, walking away from the whole package, but we’re held here by the fabric of who we are, the totality of what we choose to believe, and life choices we’ve made because of what we believe.  I would submit that this fabric is our integrity and is a blessing and not a burden.

The very word “integrity” comes from the Latin “integritatem”, meaning oneness or whole.  The essence is that of a piece of  fabric, woven together with threads which fit into the pattern, each adding to the strength and beauty of the whole, until you have the completed product, the cloth.  Each choice we make is a thread which adds to the complete fabric, good choice upon good choice, decisions made with our intellect and heart, daily adding to the integrity of a life well lived.

We could choose to tear up the fabric and start over.  It’s been done many times.  But the result is chaos and pandemonium, not only for the one tearing up, but for those who have chosen to be a part of his or her life.  Our life choices always affect more than just ourselves, it’s impossible to live in a sealed vacuum.  We almost certainly will never know how many people depend on us and our availability, our steadfastness.  I am hopeful that all of you who chance to read this understand that you are needed and important.  You contribute to the larger fabric, the integrity of your world.  If you decide to drop out, I guarantee you’ll leave a hole.  And, guess what?  Where you leave a hole, there’s no longer integrity and the fabric around will suffer, and strain, and tear.

I’ll take the busyness, the frenetic pace, and the fatigue, thanks!  I look back on the choices, good and bad, the good ones showing as clean, solid lines in the fabric, the poor ones knotted and faded, but all of them making up the whole, the integrity of my life.  I’m not completely happy with it yet,  but I think I can see that it’s a worthwhile project.  And I believe I’ll keep heading the same direction.   My little patch seems to adjoin the patches of some very fine people as I stay the course I’m on.

“…Choose you this day whom you will serve…but as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.”
(Joshua 24:15)

“To live is to choose.  But to choose well, you have to know who you are and what you stand for,where you want to go and why you want to get there.”
(Kofi Annan, former secretary-general of the UN, 2001 Nobel Peace Prize winner)

Let your yay! be yay!

She meant it as a compliment, but twenty-some years later, I can still get a little annoyed when I think about it.  Why is that?  What is it about words that makes us carry them around in a niche at the back of our minds and take them out sporadically, only to founder in the bad feelings they evoke?  I’ve decided in my adult years that I disagree vehemently with the old children’s doggerel that we heckled each other with, years ago…”Sticks and Stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.”  Since I know there are human beings in atrocious conditions that I could never comprehend, I don’t want to this to be too sweeping of a statement, but it seems to me that bones will heal. Conversely, I’m also convinced that the pain of hurtful words may linger for a lifetime.  If hers had actually been intended as hurtful, I might be writing this article from a completely different perspective.

When I tell you what she said, you’ll laugh at how thin-skinned I was.  I really never was angry at her, but it just irked me to hear it.  As I contemplate more, I think that the reason the comment comes back to me now is more about the truth (or potential for truth), than it is about the hurt. As I age, I find that I am examining the things I do more and more to be sure that I am leaving a legacy.  No, not the same kind of legacy that Presidents and public figures seem to be so obsessed with.  This is not about fame or public honor, but about the knowledge that I’ve fulfilled my purpose in life.  I really don’t want to get to a point where I look back and decide that I’ve wasted all the opportunities that I’ve been blessed with, especially after it’s too late to redeem the time.

What did she say?  Well, over the years, I have had the privilege of preaching at a number of services at my church. On the occasion I’m reminiscing about today, this elderly saint heard me preach for the first time.  I’m sure it was just that she hadn’t pictured me as a preacher, or even a public speaker, but as I greeted individuals at the end of the service, she gripped my hand, smiled sweetly, and blurted, “What are you doing wasting your time in that dinky little music store?”  I stuttered out a reply, which must have been satisfactory, since the dear lady remained my friend until she passed away some years later.

She meant it as a compliment!  She wanted me to know how excited she was to have heard me preach!  I think she was even saying that I had done a good job.  But all I heard was, “You’ve wasted your whole life doing something completely worthless!”  How do you deal with that? 

The Lord knew I needed an answer to that question because a short time later (a few weeks, maybe), I was speaking with my Dad on the telephone and he asked if we could pray before we said goodbye.  As he prayed, I heard the words, “…and bless Paul in the ministry you’ve given him there in the music store.” 

Wow!  How’s that for a contrast?  On the one hand, the thought that preaching would be so much more worthwhile than the profession I was in, and on the other hand, the statement that we are ministers wherever we find ourselves in life.  I’ve got to tell you, the light bulb went on!  I was put in this very spot for a purpose!  I don’t have to reproach myself for missed educational opportunities, or for my past lack of achievement in professional endeavors.  I can make a difference right here, right now.

My dad used to love this hokey little song that our choir sang many years ago.  I can’t remember the whole tune.  I don’t even have all the words at the tip of my tongue, but the main thought was, “Bloom, Bloom, Bloom where you’re planted!” (Told you it was hokey!)  And, that’s what I’m doing. You may think that I’m really just a bloomin’ idiot, but I’m pretty sure that the Good Lord wants us to buckle down and work right where we are.  He may move us somewhere else, but we do the same thing wherever we land…Settle in and bless those around us!

Oh!  And, let’s be careful how we compliment others.  A backdoor compliment isn’t how we bless them at all.  It’s more like the sting of nettles than the sweet aroma of a beautiful flower.  And it’s a sting that might be felt for a long, long time.

For he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of waters,
which brings forth fruit in its season,
and whose leaf also shall not wither.
Everything he does shall prosper.
(Psalm 1:3)

Is It Really You?

The old grey donkey, Eeyore stood by himself in a thistly corner of the Forest, his front feet well apart, his head on one side, and thought about things. Sometimes he thought sadly to himself, “Why?” and sometimes he thought, “Wherefore?” and sometimes he thought, “Inasmuch as which?” and sometimes he didn’t quite know what he was thinking about.
From “Winnie the Pooh” by A.A. Milne

Do you listen to people?  I mean, really listen.  Today I heard a friend for the first time.  I’ve known him for a number of years.  Been an acquaintance, said hello on the street, even chatted for several minutes.  But I didn’t listen to him.  I was too busy looking at what he did and where he’d been.  Today I actually feel like I know a little of who he is.

This wasn’t going to be one of my “preachy” notes, but I have been a bit more contemplative tonight.  When life’s truths hit me, it takes a little of the jocularity out of my mood.  As my friend Eeyore said, “We can’t all and some of us don’t, you know…Gaiety. Song-and-dance. Here we go round the mulberry bush.”  So, this evening, I’ve been thinking…

What I’ve been thinking about is: Who do people think that I am?  Easy-schmeasy!  You’re that guy who writes a bad joke every day on his Facebook page…That guy who runs the music store…That guy who leads music at my church…That guy who plays the Horn at the Candlelight Service…That guy…  But, I didn’t ask you what I do.  I asked you who I am.  Do you know me?  The real me?

We spend our lives seeing the filters, the framework, but never looking past them to the person.  Honestly, there are only a very few people who I know, really know.  And maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be, but I want more.  As my friend and I talked today, I caught a partial glimpse of what made him tick, part of what makes the whole person he is, not just the filters.  I didn’t just see a professor, or a musician, or a radio personality.  Oh, he’s done all of those things and they’ve helped to shape the person, but when we really listen and genuinely communicate, we can see, dimly at least, into the substance of what makes the man or woman.  And as I thought about what a great gift it is to learn about someone, I started wondering about how I present the real me to you.

I like to think that I’m upfront about who I am, that my friends know what drives me, but I know that’s an illusion.  The belief that you know who I am comes because I’m constantly aware of it.  Mostly, I know my faults and secret sins and it’s hard to believe that everyone I come in contact with doesn’t see them written on my face.  I want to be honest, but I protect myself from hurt and exposure by keeping who I really am to myself.  I’m pretty sure that isn’t the way God planned it, but we’ve messed up the relationship thing about as much as everything else He had in mind for us way back there.

I’m not suggesting that we need to “let it all hang out”.  What I would propose is that we start by realizing that our postman isn’t just the postman.  Your hairdresser isn’t only the hairdresser.  The President isn’t really what the publicity and press make him out to be.  Those titles and descriptions are just some of the filters.  The visible person is actually just the container for a real person, with dreams, remorse, joy, and sadness.  There’s more to every one of those stories than what you think you know.  Let’s just spend a little more time finding out who people are and not just what they do.

“For the Lord sees not as man sees: Man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.”  (I Samuel 16:7b)

It’s All Geek to Me…

Technology is an enigma to me.  Or, as Winston Churchill once said: “A riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma…”  Of course, he was talking about Russia, not tiny particles of an element found in sand (among other things).  I’m talking about silicon, of course…the stuff that makes our computers and gadgets do that voodoo that they do.  Who knew?  The dirt from which we were formed would be the same material from which our most irritating and yet, beneficial tools would be developed.  I know, I’m stretching a bit to make that connection, but “dust to dust”, you know…

Walking into the business this morning, my sister showed me the “black screen of death” on our shipping room computer.  Thinking like an IT tech, my first words were, “Did you reboot?”  And, speaking like a user who’s been around this particular block before, she answered, “First thing I did.”  So, that popular IT ploy didn’t help any.  As it turns out, the monitor was DOA and a simple substitution took care of the immediate problem.  And if this were an isolated incident, I’d overlook it and you wouldn’t have a reason to be bored to death by my writing tonight.

But life is now an endless parade of these types of issues.  A glitch in a program here, a restart there, and before you know it, we’re all amateur IT techs.  I’m tired of “trying it again to see if that fixed it.”  I’d like to just use it and have it work.  And this is not just computers I’m talking about.

Two days ago, after a few hours of processing credit and debit cards for customers, our unit stopped communicating with the host.  The result? Cash only please!  Try that with a few university students and see where it gets you.  No cards equals no sales.  Again, frantic reboots, first the terminal, next the router, then the modem.  No result?  You call the service center to hear, “Sorry, the server is down all over the country.”  What? No one can sell their products?  No wonder we’re in a recession!

And don’t get me started on my new Swiss Army phone, so dubbed by my sweet wife.  Like its analog namesake, it does everything, including letting you make the occasional phone call, so the title fits.  Apple’s latest gift to its adoring masses, this particular jewel worked for two weeks, then told me that “SIM card failure”  had occurred.   By the way, a restart did fix this one, but my snobby Mac friends all tell me this is why I should want Apple’s products, since you “never have to reboot”.  Ah, well,  all technology is an enigma to me.

I did think it apropos to see, the other Sunday morning as I sat on the stage at church, that the unit into which all the microphones, instruments, and monitors are plugged is named “Mystery Electronics”.  No kidding!  That is the brand name of the product.  How great is that?  “We don’t understand it either, so you might as well get a good laugh out of it…”  I am a bit curious as to who the marketing genius is that came up with the name, but it’s refreshing to see a little honesty in the field.

The flip side of the conundrum is that the physical talents necessary for music have also changed over time.  I remember when the small-sized instrument tuners were introduced into the music business.  My father-in-law, then my boss,  thought it ludicrous.  “Why would you trust your eyes to tune something you’re listening to?”,  he asked prospective customers (great selling technique, eh?).  Despite his best efforts, the digital tuner is standard equipment in any guitarist’s array of tools today.  But, remembering the wide-eyed amazement with which the first tuners were greeted way back then, I still have to laugh as I constantly see that same look on the faces of young people while they watch me tune newly-strung guitars using only a tuning fork and my ears.  Once the machine was the marvel.  Now the human being who can work without it is.

I talked with a couple of old guitar players today (old, meaning they have played for a number of years) about different famous guitarists.  I’ve run the gamut of likes and dislikes in my lifetime, but for now, my favorites are those who work “without a net”, so to speak.  They are the acoustic guitarists who, for whatever reason, eschew gimmickry and machines.  There they sit, just the guitar and the musician, working their magic with their raw talent, amazing the listener at the beautiful music that can be made by a human being who has perfected the craft.

I work with the technology I need to keep my business going.  I even enjoy the challenge of new gadgets from time to time.  But I will always love best the time spent with people, not through email or texting, but just by standing eye to eye and communicating, as well as the joy that comes through great music.  More gadgets beget even more gadgets, and the list grows ever longer, but our emotional core demands communication and reflection.  Deep speaks to deep, or if you will, “birds of a feather…”  We really don’t fit well with machines over the long haul.

Take some time to communicate face to face with people today.  If you can’t do that, at least pull up “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” by  Tommy Emmanuel on YouTube and spend four and a half minutes enjoying one of the simple gifts of life.

“Music has charms to soothe the savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak…”
(William Congreve  in 1697)

Baby Steps and Split Lips

Smack!  The baseball hit the six-year old boy right in the mouth and it took all the fortitude his young dad could muster to keep from running onto the field.  The lad was at his first ever tee-ball practice and he was used to people lobbing softer balls toward him.  This one had been thrown by another kid whose aim was a bit errant, so the sphere skimmed the hard dirt surface in front of him, bouncing up to batter a target it wasn’t intended for.  But the dad stood where he was behind the fence and let the boy’s coach run out to check him.  A little blood and a little more wounded pride, but he tearfully assured the coach that he would stay where he was and keep on with the practice.

On the way home later, the conversation went something like, “That ball hit you pretty hard out there.”  “Yeah, and look at it now!” (Said with a split, puffy lip stuck out.)  “You know, you can quit if you want to…”  “Quit?  I’m going to play baseball!”  And play baseball, he did.  It was about 9 years later that he finally put away the cleats and glove, after many different teams and All-Star games.  He turned into a really good baseball player, but more than that, he became a young man who knew what it was to tough it out and go for his goals.

It’s been a few years since that young man showed the doggedness it took to stick through the pain and effort, but the early lessons keep bearing fruit 20 years later.  Those lessons aren’t lost on the dad either, now a little older and a very small amount wiser.  Of course, one of the things he’s learned is that these lessons are neither rare, nor remarkable.  But sometimes, the reminder still helps to keep life in perspective.

This week, his youngest granddaughter took her first steps on her own.  She turns one in another week or so, and her frame of reference is widening at an amazing rate (not that this is unusual, either).  As we all do, she started out aware of only the most basic needs, food, sleep, a mother’s touch.  As she’s grown, her scope has expanded also.  Still very much self-absorbed, she realizes that she wants other things; brightly colored toys, different food than she usually has (even hot coffee), certain people (Grandma’s the best!).  She even wants more mobility, but she herself is perfectly willing to leave the transportation to anyone who will carry her.  She started crawling only out of the most dire need (Mama has 4 kids and was thoughtless enough to leave her on the floor!).  And now, even though crawling is good enough, these adults around her keep standing her up and having her walk on the bottom of her feet.

And still today, she doesn’t really want to walk.  She has to be put upright on her feet and have someone in front of her for whom she is motivated enough to put out the effort.  She even fusses about it.  But parents and grandparents understand that this is the next achievement in the natural progression.  Yes, she’s going to fall down a time or two.  She may even split her lip open, but this is how life moves along.  We try new things even when we are frightened of the effort and the possibilities.  And, the result is a complete person, one who has taken their fair share of licks and won their fair share of victories.

For today, she knows she’s done something really good.  Everyone praises her and Grandpa sweeps her up in his arms, telling her how smart she is.  It’s a picture that’s been seen millions of times before and will be repeated that many more times, but for right now, all she knows is that she’s done something stupendous, and the smile on her face is living proof.

Sometimes we forget that our lives are supposed to be spent learning and the pop-quizzes should come along fairly regularly.  It is possible to become a drop-out.  We just decide we’ve gotten the degree we want in the school of hard knocks and we’re done.  Sit tight, do the same things every day, and no one will ever hit us in the mouth with anything.  We figure we’ve learned everything that we need for our profession and just mark time.  But we were never intended to be done, never intended to quit learning, never intended to sit on the sidelines watching.  For many of us today, it’s confusing to see friends who refuse to learn about new technologies, refuse to contemplate and discuss current events, and refuse to take an active part in any unfamiliar activity.    We live in an exciting time, when information is at our fingertips, facts are verified with the push of a few buttons, and new experiences await us at every turn.  We were meant to live ’til we die! 

You’d better be careful, little girl!  One step leads to another all through your life!  And watch out for those wild pitches…



The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet, 
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then?  I cannot say.
(From “The Hobbit” ~ J.R.R. Tolkien)


“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the Faith.” 
(The Apostle Paul in 2 Timothy 4:7)

Later, Dudes!

I’m writing tonight in an effort to avoid real work.  I find that I enjoy the enterprise of writing late at night much more than I enjoy the discipline of accomplishing tasks which are required for my real job.  That’s funny, I’m not sure many of my friends would call what I do a “real job”.  I’ve found over the years that most people believe that I get to sit and play guitar all the day long.  Would that this reflected reality!  I’d be a much better guitarist than I believe myself to be (which is to say, I’m not a guitarist at all) and would probably be a much more relaxed and carefree person than I am.  More impoverished certainly, but easier to get along with.

I can finally reveal to the world that I am a procrastinator.  I intended to do this years ago, but I don’t like to rush into things.  I really have been meaning to make this admission, but I was thinking that maybe if I didn’t, the condition would go away on its own and I wouldn’t have to be embarrassed like this.  We always do that, you know.  We assume that if we leave something for later, it won’t need to be done.  Someone else will do it, the Rapture will happen and it won’t matter anyway, or maybe it’s all a dream and we’ll wake up to find it never needed to be done in the first place.

I’ve got a shop full of jobs that have been put off.  Some of the jobs, I just detest doing, so they sit and languish.  Others are jobs I started, only to find that they entailed a procedure I couldn’t handle.  Rather than admit that, they still wait for me to learn that particular skill.  Many of those “always-with-me” purchases I discussed before could be made usable with a few moments of diligence and some TLC, but that’s next week’s worry.  The outside of our house needs repair, but it’s still pretty nice inside, so why worry about a little caulk anyway?  I’ll get to that the next time I have a few free moments during a cool morning, when I’m not drinking coffee, or reading the newspaper, or playing with the dog.

I should probably tell you now; I’m not looking for any help in changing.  Please don’t send me suggestions of self-help books, or instructions on how to write to-do lists.  I find myself in the majority for a change and I mean to keep it that way.  Thomas Jefferson was a fine man and I’m sure that he meant well with his maxim writing, but “Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today” is not my idea of practical wisdom.  I’ve been around the block a time or two.  I realize that when I finish one job, there’s only another one to take its place.  I think I like Mark Twain’s saying a little better, “Never put off until tomorrow what you can put off until the day after tomorrow.”  I can understand that and would write it on a poster, but I’m pretty sure I’d not have the time to put it up anyway.

The really positive thing about those of us who put things off is that we are usually great at socializing.  We’ll drop any job we hate for a chance to visit with you.  “Sure, that can wait, what’s up with you?”  I just say this to make sure you know, you’re welcome at my place anytime.  Just drop by and we’ll sit and talk.  What’s that you say?  No I don’t need to be doing anything else…nothing at all…

“If something’s hard to do, then it’s not worth doing.” ~ Homer Simpson