June 16 – “Shifting Modes”

I received my Father’s Day phone calls from all three of my boys yesterday.  All at different times, so I could focus on each one.  Of course I know when (well, if) they read this they will start trying to figure out who called first so they can claim “best son” status.  Ain’t brotherly competition grand?  It’s great to hear from them any time.  I get an addede treat today.  Nathan and April and Cailyn have invited me for a Day After Father’s Day lunch.  Gotta eat, right?  I forgot to ask if I could bring along a “plus one.”  Surely they won’t mind Chris coming, too.  Dad Mode still engaged.

We had a blast from the past show up at church yesterday.  Boyd and Jane Chipman were members at Seaside several years ago before they moved away to the far-off mainland.  They were spending the weekend in their camper trailer at one of the trailer parks, so they decided to pop in for a visit.  Lots of fun, that couple is.  One time they single-handedly (well, I guess it would be double-handedly since both of them were involved) provided all the fish for a fish fry fundraiser.  Without a doubt one of the best ones we have ever had.  They stayed for dinner-on-the-grounds and we had a lot of time to catch up.  Nostalgia Mode intact.

I have to be ready at the drop of a hat to rush off to the church this morning.  We tried to have some water delivered last Friday, but they forgot to call me to let me know they were on their way.  Chris and I finally just headed out to the church to wait for them, but our secretary called as we were on our way to let us know they wouldn’t be there.  Seems they came by and couldn’t find anyone so they just left.  They were very apologetic, and assured us that they would call next time.  Well today is next time.  Hope that little detail is covered today.  Pastor Mode on standby.

I did make it through the teaching Sunday with my voice relatively intact.  Only had to stop once to replenish my cough drop.  I finally moved to the couch last night, after my third coughing spell, so I wouldn’t wake Chris up.  It helped some being able to keep myself propped up.  And I did get two more crossword puzzles done.  Oh, and the sound of rain on the flat roof of our den is particularly soothing at 3:30 a.m. I am sure praying this stuff runs its course before we have to leave for camp.  Yikes.  That is this Sunday morning.  Guess it’s time to shift into Camp Mode. 

Hmm.  Dad Mode.  Camp Mode.  DadDad Mode.  Husband Mode.  Nostalgia Mode.  I think I’ve figured out why people think I’m a little crazy.  I just get my modes mixed up sometimes. 

Titus 3:4-7 says, “But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that, having been justified by his grace, we might become heirs having the hope of eternal life.”

Father, you are a master at the whole shifting modes thing.  Thank you for shifting just enough so we could get to know you, and then shifting again so we could be assured that you will never leave us.  Amen.

June 15 – “Travis and Merlin”

We went to a party yesterday.  One of our Seaside kids, Travis, both graduated from high school and had a party within a week of each other, so the neighborhood that has been raising him lately threw him a bash.  A swimming pool was available for those who wanted to take a dip.  Barbequed chicken and all the fixin’s plus some kind of Mexican food buffet graced the table.  They had a big ol’ cake with some of that good kind of icing, not the kind that’s apparently easier to mold into decorator shapes but tastes bland.  The best part, though, was having all the neighbors and friends get together and chat and do some Trav-encouraging.  Oh, and several of the folks there even completed their cold-water challenges.  That’s a productive birthday/graduation party.  Congrats, Travis.

We have to find a new series to watch on Netflix.  We just finished out the one called Merlin.  It was about a young boy who arrives in Camelot to live with his uncle who happens to be the court physician to Uther Pendragon (that would be the future King Arthur’s father).  The boy (Merlin) gets a job as Prince Arthur’s servant, and through the series he has to use his magic to protect his master and ensure that he eventually rises to be king.  It was an interesting approach to the story.  All the elements from the legend are there, but have been reworked to fit the younger story line: Morgana and Mordred, the sword in the stone, the round table, and even the lady of the lake.  We tried out the Dr. Who spinoff called Torchwood, but the very first episode was full of some pretty foul and certainly unnecessary language, so we nixed that one.  They have added some new Dr. Who episodes, so I guess we’ll return to those for the time being until we can find something else.  Suggestions will be welcome.

I am still battling that sore throat.  Today should be interesting at church.  Just hoping I can get through the teaching without losing my voice completely.  Although some would probably see that as a blessing.  And then I have a week to finish getting everything ready for camp.  Here we go …….

Genesis 2:1-3 says, “Thus the heavens and the earth were completed in all their vast array.  By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he rested from all his work. 3 And God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it he rested from all the work of creating that he had done.”

Father, thank you for giving us the chance to watch Travis as he has grown up.  Walk with him into his new life-chapter at college.  Amen.

June 14 – “Happy Flag Day”

I’ve been reading up on the origins of Flag Day.  Not that it’s a problem for us to fly the flag around here.  Our biggest issue is remembering to do it on the appropriate days.  As I have found out, the reason for the day is to commemorate the anniversary of the official adoption of what we have come to know as the Stars and Stripes as the flag of the United States.  That actually happened in 1777. 

On June 14, 1777, the Continental Congress replaced the British symbols of the Grand Union flag with a new design featuring thirteen white stars in a circle on a field of blue and 13 red and white stripes – one for each state.  Whether or not Betsy Ross (seamstress who was the official flag maker for the Pennsylvania Navy) actually made the first flag is not really certain, but it sure makes for a good story.  The number of stars increased as new states entered the Union, but after fifteen, it became apparent that the stripes were making the whole thing unwieldy.  They stopped at fifteen, then eventually returned to the original thirteen.

Flash forward to 1885.  The country was already celebrating July 4^th as its birthday.  That year a schoolteacher in Wisconsin had the idea for his students to observe June 14 as the Flag’s birthday, since it had been adopted 108 years before.  Over the next years that teacher wrote newspaper articles and spoke publicly and apparently enthusiastically to advocate making June 14^th “Flag Birthday.”

In 1889 a kindergarten teacher in New York picked up on the idea and planned some appropriate ceremonies for his school.  Guess he knew more of “the right people,” because later on the State Board of Education in New York adopted the day for schools in the state.  In 1891 the Betsy Ross House in Philadelphia picked it up and the next year the New York branch of the Sons of the Revolution joined in.

In 1893 the Pennsylvania Society of Colonial Dames of America (How’s that for a mouthful of a name?) requested that the mayor of Philadelphia, all those in authority, and all private citizens display the flag on June 14^th.  Part of that recommendation was that school children be assembled for appropriate exercises and that each child be given a small flag.  Other societies joined in, and finally the superintendent of public schools of Philadelphia declared that Flag Day exercises would be held on June 14, 1893 in Independence Square.  School kids came, small flags in hand, patriotic songs were sung, and speeches were made.

The governor of New York took it a step further in 1894 when he directed that the flag be displayed on all public buildings on Flag Day.  Over in Chicago the first public school celebration of Flag Day there drew more than 300,000 children to five different local parks. 

After thirty years of celebrations organized at the state and local levels, the anniversary of the Flag Resolution of 1777 – June 14 – was officially established by President Woodrow Wilson on May 30^th, 1916.  Finally, on August 3, 1949, President Harry Truman signed an Act of Congress designating June 14^th of each year as National Flag Day.

So there’s your history for the day.  Suffice it to say, I remembered to put ours out.  Did you?

Ephesians 4:2-3 says, “Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.  Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace.”

Father, thank you for the things our flag represents: purity, courage, unity.  All things you think highly of as well.  Amen. 

June 13 – “Quiet a day (that’s not a typo)”

Cailyn got to spend the day with us yesterday for the first time since school let out.  It was hard for her to leave me alone to do the computer work I needed to get done, but Chris was great about convincing her to join her outside to water flowers or swing.  But once we shifted gears and all of us left the house for our “field trip” all was well.  We ended up making three stops.  One I knew nothing about.  As we were driving along down 23^rd Street, I think, Chris suddenly pulled into a parking lot and declared that we were stopping here for a minute or two.  Well, OK.  Her declared destination was a little antique store.  I was willing to give it a try, and actually was pleasantly surprised.  It was a jumble of junk and treasures, all seemingly tossed together into a make-your-own-way-through maze.  That’s the kind of antique store I like to visit.  It had the expected furniture items here and there, and a myriad of trinkets.  But it also had a few baseball cards (none were very old, though) and several stacks of comic books (Best thing about them was that many of them were DC.  It was like reminiscing through my old stacks of Superman and Justice League and Action comics).  It was definitely a place I would make a return trip to when there wasn’t a five-year-old tagging along who wanted to touch everything. 

Next stop was the library.  We had signed Cailyn up online for the summer reading club they sponsor.  That entitled her to a free t-shirt to start out, and then prizes throughout the summer as she completes up to 20 books.  Greta way to keep kids engaged in the fun of reading, and you don’t even need batteries or a charged up Kindle.  Cailyn was kind of reserved in picking out her books, though, because there were lots of children present.  It was almost like several entire classrooms of schoolkids had been dropped off and turned loose.  She always gets a little shy in large groups, but she managed to find ten books and we got them all checked out (after Chris took care of an earlier fine.  $12 for overdue books.  Chris asked if she could just take home a book for that price.  I don’t think the lady appreciated her humor). 

Last stop was across the street to the fire station where Daddy was on duty.  It had been a fairly quiet day for them so far.  Nathan came downstairs and we sat on the back of the fire engine in front of one of those really big fans and talked.  I always enjoy watching the interchanges between Cailyn and her Daddy.  Must be nothing quite like having a daughter.  Not that I would trade a moment of the time we had with our three boys. 

That part of our excursion done, we came on home.  I had to finish preparing for the home group Bible study and I had to go to a memorial reception for Joe Murphy, the dad of one of our old Seaside kids, Matt.  Matt has now graduated from college and is managing a set of apartments here in Galveston.  Great to see him again.  All in all it was a pretty quiet day.  I needed it, too, because I have been fighting a sore throat.  Not the ailment for someone who has to talk a lot.

Numbers 6:24-26 says, “The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace.”

Father, be with the families of Joe Murphy and of Neil Goodman as they walk through their time of grief and come out on the other side.  They could sure use one of your hugs.  Amen.

June 12 – “Cold Water Challenge”

As you can see if you take a look at my FaceBook page, I was challenged to take part in the ColdWater Challenge.  I originally thought that it was a phenomenon unique to the fire service, but I was challenged by a police officer, so I decided to look into it a little further.  Honestly, I didn’t find out much as far as origins go. 

One place said it was started in Missouri to raise money for a little girl who needed a diabetic alert dog, and the challenge went viral.  The most logical origin seems to be that it is a kind of unsanctioned spin-off of the polar plunge that is most often used by the Special Olympics as a fundraiser.  Beyond that the history is sketchy at best.  And so, as is the case with many sociological rites in our culture, the original reason is lost, but the ritual remains, and in this case is still spreading like wildfire all over the country.  This particular one is making a difference, though.  More about that in a moment.

First, for those who haven’t yet been exposed, here are the “rules:”

1.  You get “nominated” (read here “challenged” or “called out) to complete the challenge by someone who has just done it.

2.  You have 24 hours to complete the challenge and donate $10 or $20 to the charity of your choice.
3.  If you choose not to complete the challenge, you donate $50 or $100 to the charity they choose. 
Actually, the amount of the donation varies.  The important thing is that you give.  That’s the part that I like.
4.  If you complete the challenge, you upload a video of you doing it to FaceBook or YouTube.
5.  You get to challenge five more individuals.

Doing it that way, the number of people participating multiplies quickly.  Many local groups and charities have benefitted greatly already.  I chose to give to the Texas Line of Duty Death Task Force (PO Box 925, Friendswood, TX 77546), which is sort of a local version of the National Fallen Firefighters Federation.  The NFFF has issued this statement:

To the cold and wet (or warm and dry) the NFFF says Thanks!

The 24-Hour Cold Water Challenge has captured the creative minds and generous hearts of many firefighters, survivors and NFFF supporters. To those who are taking the plunge – literally or figuratively – and picking the National Fallen Firefighters Foundation as your charity, we thank you.

In the past week alone, we have received nearly 250 donations in amounts of $10 or $100, and more are coming in every day. Your donation will directly help the survivors of fallen firefighters.

As you know, safety is one of the key missions of the Foundation. We urge you to keep that in mind if you accept a challenge.

You can fulfill your challenge obligation by going to donate.firehero.org and be sure to click on the Cold Water Challenge box. You can then show others that you’ve fulfilled your promise from your confirmation screen by sharing on Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn and email. You can also send a check to National Fallen Firefighters Foundation, P.O. Drawer 498, Emmitsburg, MD 21727 and earmarking it as Cold Water Challenge.

Best of luck to all of those who are being “called-out” by a friend or colleague. If you post a video on social media, feel free to tag the Foundation. And please, be safe.

Apparently there have been some injuries attributed to someone taking the challenge, so if you do it, don’t be stupid.  Be safe.  Among fire fighters, I have seen all kinds of creativity.  Many have been doused with water from a fire hose.  Lots have had a trash can full of water dumped on them.  Others have jumped into a drop tank of some kind.  One guy had a bucket of ice dropped on him as he slid down a waterslide.  One just drank a large glass of ice water (Great points for creativity, but does that even count?).  I did my patented dive and swim across an icy swimming pool. 

Oh.  In my research I did find out that I was supposed to call out five people and I only did two, so I guess that means I have three to go.  Hmm.  Maybe Galveston Mayor Jim Yarbrough.  And Megan Babb.  She’s a paramedic somewhere in Tennessee I think.  I heard she was dying to be challenged.  And then there are Colt Krnavek and John Rose of the Jamaica Beach Volunteer Fire Department.  Oops, that’s six.  I better stop there.

James 1:27 says, “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.”

Father, walk with the families of those heroes who die in the line of duty.  Amen.

June 11 – “OLLI Old”

I have been taking one of the many classes offered by the Osher Lifelong Learning Institute (OLLI) through the University of Texas Medical Branch (UTMB) here in Galveston.  I have actually taught in the program before, several years ago now.  I think it was a New Testament era history class or something along those lines.  They strive to provide college level classes for seniors in the area at extremely cheap rates.  And the type of classes varies wildly.  One of Mom’s favorites was a class on how to write your life story.  The class I’m taking falls more in the physical education realm, I guess.  It is a water exercise class that makes it possible for me to have the water therapy I need for my rheumatoid arthritis at a fraction of the cost.  And in the process I get to meet some fascinating Galvestonians.  Some have been here a long time like Jean, a girl I went to high school with.  Others are relative newcomers like Bill, a retired fire fighter from Detroit.  With some I have made connections in other ways, from praying for a grandson to reminiscing with former Seasiders.  Water exercise twice a week in a heated pool at the Tideway Transitional Learning Center for just $25 a month.  Not a bad price. 

Now I have had some interesting teachers along the way.  I haven’t learned all their names, though.  That’s pretty much my fault.  Well, at least my hearing’s fault.  Since I can’t wear my hearing aids into the water I have to do my best to follow their motions or those of my fellow students.  I have, however, devised a method of identifying each instructor based on her own particular style.  The one we have most often I think is named Bernie.  I’m pretty sure I have heard others call her that.  Since I have never done anything like this before, I consider her style the baseline for comparing the others.  So we have Bernie Basic.  Now early on we did have a young medical student who taught a time or two.  She was very much into aerobics and I enjoyed her class a lot, but alas, she has gone on to higher education and we have not had the guidance of The Youngster in a long time.  Perhaps the most popular of the instructors has been a lady who for me was quite difficult to understand.  She spoke with a heavy accent that sounded to my impaired ears like German, so I affectionately refer to her as simply Fraulein.  The thing I enjoyed about her class was her unpredictability.  One of her favorite commands (and mine as well) was for us to thrash about the pool, doing whatever random movements we desired for a sequence of fifteen or twenty seconds.  Those were probably the most aerobically challenging seconds of my life.  Sadly, she has moved to Colorado, so we won’t be blessed with her unpredictability any more.  One of the more recent ones I can only call the Dance Diva.  Every exercise she comes up with must be done in time to the music, and she has added one move trying to teach us to dance a waltz in the water, as well as another that she calls the cowboy shuffle.  I am not that great at either of those moves, in the water or on land.  The teacher we had Monday was a lady who has been in the class with us for some time.  I’ll have to experience her a time or two more before I can come up with a designation, though.  For now she has an accent as well, but this one has more of a Yankee twang to it.  Her voice falls into that area of the spectrum that is hardest for my ears to translate, though.  I had to watch my cohorts carefully to see what she wanted us to do next.  I think she was saying some funny things because other class members were doing a lot of laughing, but I’ll just have to take their word for it (or I guess it would be, I’ll have to take their chuckle for it). 

But it is with the help of all these instructors that I have literally waded my way through about nine months of some interesting and challenging exercises that only make sense when you try them in the water: cross country skiing, travel jacks, push-backs, and a dizzying array of nightmarish contortions involving a pool noodle.  My balance has improved dramatically.  My stamina still has a long way to go, but I have been able to resume walking around the neighborhood with Chris.  My ultimate goal was to get enough physical self-assurance to go on a ride-along with one of the fire engines.  I already have approval for that, so I don’t think it is far off.  So my final word for this day is … embrace that AARP card and take advantage of the incredible opportunities that await you.  Hey, maybe that can be their motto: Grow OLLI Old.

Psalms 92:12-15 says, “The righteous will flourish like a palm tree, they will grow like a cedar of Lebanon; planted in the house of the Lord, they will flourish in the courts of our God.  They will still bear fruit in old age, they will stay fresh and green, proclaiming, ‘The Lord is upright; he is my Rock, and there is no wickedness in him.’”

Father, thank you for opportunities.  Especially unexpected ones.  I like surprises.  Amen.

June 10 – “That’s fishing”

Well, I actually went fishing yesterday.  The beach was way too rough, and there is still an awful lot of seaweed floating around, so I reverted to my shore of the Bay stand-by and went to Jamaica Beach.  I started out across the street from where Nathan and April live on Basin Drive.  It’s right next to the boat ramp, but there was just not much traffic on a Monday morning.  Not much fishing either, as it turned out.  I didn’t even get a nibble.  I packed up everything and went over to the beach to check it out.  I really do like to wade fish.  It was still plenty rough, and there wasn’t a soul on the beach.  Chris texted me that I better not get into the water under those conditions. 

So I headed over to a friend’s house in Jamaica Beach.  They live in Houston and he said I could fish off his dock any time.  Problem there was that there was a car in the driveway.  It was still early so I didn’t even stop to say hi.  There was one more spot that I hadn’t been to in quite a while.  It was a little strip of land on the west side of the village that bordered the main canal.  Come to find out, others have apparently found it to be a good spot as well, because the Jamaica Janes had supplied a few benches and done some nice landscaping.  It is now an official city park.  No amenities other than the benches and bushes, though. 

There were already two guys fishing when I arrived, so I took up my spot off to one side and made my first cast.  And within seconds … I was hopelessly snagged.  Ended up having to break the line.  Not such a good start.  The other guys were obviously getting bites, though, so I tied on a new hook and cast out again.  I got plenty of nibble, but for a long time not more than that.  My fishing partners weren’t having any luck either, so they jumped in their golf cart to try their luck a block or two further down.  I’m a little more patient than that.  I kept on casting.

And my patience finally paid off.  I felt a significant tug and the battle began.  After a few seconds I had a hunch this one might have made the day worthwhile.  The way it fought and the few swirls I began to see convinced me that it was a redfish, and I just hoped it would be a keeper.  My struggles caught the attention of a guy passing by in a truck, so he stopped to watch and cheer me on.  The other two guys started slowly working their way back to their original spot as well.  Sure enough it was a keeper red, probably 26 inches or so.  Nice supper size. 

I later had a flounder on the line, but I couldn’t land him.  Other than that none of us caught anything else.  But then, that’s fishing. 

Matthew 7:9-11 says, “Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? 10 Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? 11 If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!”

Father, thank you for the chance to go fishing.  It does help to recognize your awesomeness when I consider all the fish of the sea.  Amen.