Five Smooth Stones

It matters little whether you were raised a Baptist, Catholic, Presbyterian, Episcopalian or you are on an agnostic pilgrimage of your own; you know the story from I Samuel.  It is the story of David and Goliath, a favorite Biblical story known for its exciting and fast-paced action plot.  It is know by almost everyone as a classic story of good winning over evil, a young boy’s triumphant victory over a giant ogre; and not least, God’s intervention in human affairs.

About a year ago, my pastor’s sermon was based on the I Samuel text.  It is an exciting story and I’ve heard it many times, but as he read the entire text that Sunday, my mind began taking a detour from the pastor’s focus the moment he read the text, “He….chose five smooth stones from the stream and put them in the pouch of his shepherd’s bag, and with his sling in his hand, approached the Philistine.” 

 

Of course, we all know the rest of the story.  David confronts Goliath, fires a stone from his sling and strikes the giant in the forehead.  Goliath falls to the ground either dead or immobilized; David gets Goliath’s sword, cuts off the giant’s head and claims victory for God and the army of Israel.

That day, the phrase “five smooth stones,” caught my attention and I began to wonder why David selected five stones; why not just one stone or maybe three, or even ten?  What other factors were at work that insured David’s victory that day?  As I followed my own thoughts and let the pastor preach his own words, I jotted down five points and personal thoughts in the margin of my bulletin that impressed me.  I recently dug out those notes, polished them a bit and they are the basis for this blog.

First, perhaps David picked up five stones that day because he’d learned that when using his sling, he did not always strike the target with the first stone.  If the first stone did not hit the bull’s eye, he better be ready with additional ammunition for a second or third try.  In David’s case,  if he couldn’t get it in five, it would probably be too late anyway.  I think David had learned that in life, you need to be prepared and ready for more than one try at success.  Don’t give up if your first attempt misses the mark.  Not everything you attempt has life or death consequences as did David’s confrontation with Goliath, but sometimes we give up after only the first attempt.  Should I do any less when facing adversity?

Second, David had experience in confronting threats and enemies using the equipment he was familiar with and comfortable using.  As a Sheppard, he only used his staff and sling in hunting and protecting his sheep.  He had confronted lions and bears in his wilderness experience as a sheep herder and had killed both animals with his sling.  King Saul offered David his own protective heavy armor and weapons, but with their weight and stiffness he quickly opted to discard the armor and stick with his staff and sling.  When faced with adversity or threatening people or situations should I try to emulate the threat, or face adversity using my own skills and equipment?  I think David’s example speaks to the best option.

Third, David had confidence in God’s ability to protect him from the enemy.  He referenced his encounters with the lion and bear, telling King Saul that, “The Lord who delivered me from the paw of the lion and bear will deliver me from the hand of this Philistine.”  David was not facing the giant in his own power and confidence, but in the faith that God would be with him and deliver him from danger.  Should I do anything less than this when I face life’s challenges and dangers?

Fourth, David did not piddle around trying to second-guess what action Goliath would take or perhaps hoping for some other intervention.  After a heated confrontational dialogue between the two, Goliath moved toward David with the deadly intent.  At that point, the scripture says that “David ran quickly toward the battle line to meet him.”  How many times have I sat wavering, waiting, or procrastinating when I should have been moving forward?  If I believe in God and trust his Holy Spirit to always be with me, why should I wait?  Like David, should I not be moving quickly to confront whatever it is that is blocking my path to a fuller life and dynamic relationship with God?

Finally, even before David slays Goliath, he gives God the praise and credit for victory.  As David ends his heated dialogue with Goliath, he says, “All those gathered here will know that it is not by sword or spear that the Lord saves; for the battle is the Lord’s, and he will give you into our hands.”   When facing adversity and evil that opposes God’s Kingdom, how often have I failed to understand the concept that for the Christian, the battle is already won?  To actualize victory in my life, God only requires that I take action upon my faith in him.

Nuggets from David & Goliath

·         Be prepared to take more than one shot to succeed in a task.
·         Use your own skills and talents, don’t mimic the other guy.
·         Absolutely believe in God’s power and protection.
·         To experience victory requires action on my part.
·         Give God the praise and credit for victories in life.

 

My apologies to Pastor Gene for taking a mental detour during his sermon,

but his text prompted me to explore the truths in a familiar story  once again.

 

The Epitaph

A project that I began a couple of years ago has been making photographs of  the old churches in my East Tennessee County.  Sometimes while I’m photographing the church I also wander into the local graveyard.  Looking at the dates, names, and epitaphs on the tombstones makes for interesting reading and speculation about the lives of the men and women long deceased and mostly forgotten.

 In the strictest sense, an epitaph (from Greek, meaning "a funeral oration over the tomb") is a short text or poem honoring a deceased person.  Some epitaphs are descriptive of the deceased person’s life or character, while others are used figuratively. Some epitaphs are specified by the deceased beforehand, others are chosen by those responsible for the burial.   An epitaph can be provocative, humorous, or tricky to interpret for someone reading an epitaph that was inscribed 100 or more years ago.

On one of my searches for a particular church, I found that it was no longer standing. The church building was long gone, only the foundation and entry stepping stones remain to mark its location.  But just down the road, Caldwell Cemetery remains with perhaps 95 or so grave markers.  Although worn, covered with lichen and moss, the markers still stand; giving testimony to the individuals whose bodies are buried in that place.  There were several grave markers with epitaphs, but I was struck by one epitaph in particular, “She hath done what she could” inscribed on the headstones of two women.  As a young boy I was always encouraged to “do the best I could” on any task that was mine to do.  Whether it was homework, a household chore, or building a model airplane, I was always encouraged to “do your best.”  It seemed odd that someone would inscribe on these headstones “doing what they could” rather than “doing the best” they could.

One of these headstones belonged to Mary E. Caldwell’s, born July 18, 1846, died May 19, 1911, just two months short of age 65.  In a follow-up visit to the County Archives I found that Mary and her husband had an adopted son, William Fellows, who was reported as age six in the 1880 Census.  No additional records for the son were found, so it is doubtful the child lived to maturity.  This was further indicated by Samuel’s Last Will & Testament, dated March 1892, which makes no mention of his adopted son.  Mary was fourteen years younger than her husband and outlived him by fourteen years.

Just a short distance from Mary’s grave, I found the marker of Georgia D. Caldwell, born about twenty-two years after Mary.  Georgia was born June 27, 1868, died on February 8, 1899, not quite thirty-one years old.  Both women were married, but the available records indicate that neither had any natural children.  As I looked at the 95 graves in the cemetery that day I wondered, “What prompted the common epitaph on these two women’s grave stones?” 

Both women lived in the same east Tennessee community where life and events moved slowly in the mid to late 1800’s.  It is hard for me to imagine, but while these two women were “keeping house” and their husbands were “farmers;” Billy the Kid, Doc Holliday, and Wyatt Earp were “toting their guns” and alive in the West.  As these two women used candles and oil lamps to light their homes, Thomas Edison was putting electricity into homes in New York City and the Brooklyn Bridge was completed.  About the time Mary turned 40 and Georgia turned 20, The Statue of Liberty, the Eiffel Tower and the Washing Monument were all completed.  At the same time, George Eastman was developing his photographic film and box camera.  During the adult lives of these women, many things were happening in America and the world, but these two women were living out their daily lives in anonymity.  There are no records to show their contributions or any unique life achievements. 

The most definitive descriptor for Mary is from the 1880 census when she was age 33 and “keeping house.”  The records show that Mary’s husband apparently had much respect and confidence in her abilities.  His Last Will & Testament states, “And having full confidence in my beloved wife, I do hereby nominate and appoint her to be the Executor of this my Last Will & Testament and she shall administer it without bond or liability.”

I found even less information on Georgia.  She died before the 1900 Federal Census, so there is nothing to describe her except from the 1880 Census where she was listed as the 12 year old “daughter” of Alax Caldwell, the youngest of four children.  Her adult life has no definitive descriptors. 

It seems improbable for that time period, when families tended to be large, that neither woman had natural born children.  Even Mary’s adopted son apparently did not survive, thus there is no legacy that children often afford a family.  Apparently longevity made no significant impact on their lives in the end.  Mary lived over twice as many years as Georgia, but both have the same simple epitaph, “She hath done what she could.”

As citizens of this world, most of us live out our lives rather obscurely.  Our realm of influence is limited by our time, our travel, our engagement with others and the choices and decision we make along this life journey.  Most likely our influence primarily impacts our family; spouse, children and extended family members.  If we are engaged in the community through civic, church or business endeavors our circle of influence may widen a bit.  Some few reach out even further and touch a nation or the world, but only a select few are called or gifted enough to be a Billy Graham, a Thomas Edison, a Jonas Salk or a Bill Gates.   If most of us were a stone or pebble, we would make a small splash, sending out little ripples in the pond of life.

 

Although most of us are a small fish in a big pond, I think we ought to live so our own epitaph could at least be somewhat like that of Mary and Georgia. 

Think about what their epitaph really says!   “She hath done” signifies accomplishment and completion.  It does not say she “tried” to do something, but “she hath done” it.  “What she could” implies that she did the things at hand, the things available, the things that were needed, things that required attention where she happened to be, the things within her abilities to do.  I imagine that both women were pragmatic, doing little dreaming about “what might be” or “what could have been.”   Rather, I suspect they focused on what they could do in the moment with what they had.

 I don’t know what my epitaph will read, but it wouldn’t bother me a bit if it simply said, “He hath done what he could.”

 

 

Mary's gravestone

 

 

 

Composting.....Why Do I do It?

It was a beautiful spring day so I spent several hours on an annual event; emptying one of my compost bins that had been “cooking” for the past year.  The dark, rich, humus soil that results from composting is a reward for the gardener and a natural fertilizer for plants.  Composting is nature’s way of recycling and goes on 24/7 in the natural world.  However, on our one acre subdivision lot, composting takes planning and requires some physical effort.

 As I dug and sifted the compost pile, the sweat began popping out on my forehead and I wondered to myself, “How many people do this anymore?”  “Why do I do this?”  “This is a lot of back-breaking work.”

Now I’ll have to admit that I am basically a lazy composter and use the low temperature method which relies on Psychrophiles, low temperature microbes, to breakdown the plant materials placed in the compost bin.  Some gardeners, who need faster results, use the “hot method” which breaks down the compost more quickly.  But I’ve got time, so I’m willing to wait a year or so and let the little microbes do their job.  The end results are the same for either method; a rich, dark, humus soil.

 Later that day with the composting task behind me, I pondered my own self-imposed question of “Why do I do this?”   Sitting at the computer I jotted down several thoughts about composting and what it is that keeps me “doing it” year after year.

For starters, it is a practical thing to do because the compost bin is basically a dump.  It gives me a place to dispose of the leaves, stems, twigs, vines, grass and other vegetative matter that is generated by our one acre lot.  As garden crops are harvested during the summer there’s always plenty of non-eatable plant matter that must be disposed of in some way.  Our flowering plants provide their season of color and beauty, but then must be deadheaded and thinned.  And much too every gardener’s regret there are always plenty of weeds to pull, providing additional green matter for the compost bin.   

The beginnings of a new compost pile. 

Another reason to compost comes from my life-long love of things natural.  I’ve always enjoyed trees, plants and animals and appreciated the life cycles found in the natural world.  The deep humus soil of a mature forest bears a wonderful testimony to how nature recycles the leaf and stem litter deposited by the trees.  Seemingly simple and yet complex is the cycle whereby  microscopic organisms decay the plant materials, then insects and earth worms further refine those particles into the rich soils of the forest floor.  This continuous cycle of decay and soil rebuilding nourishes the older trees and provide fertile ground for new sprouts to take root.  As a composting-gardener, it is an amazing process to facilitate right here on our small subdivision lot.

A third reason is that composting brings a certain sense of fulfillment and oneness with nature.  It lets me be a participant in the plant world’s natural process of living, growing, flowering, dying, and decaying.  This natural cycle provides nourishment and re-birth to new plants in a never ending cycle of life.  In a world where we are so often detached and removed from nature, what a pleasure it is to be a participant in this natural process.

What it looks like after about a year of slow cooking.

As a final thought, composting reminds me that like the plants, I am time-limited, flourishing for just a season.  I have a time to live, flower and produce good fruit; then a time to die and decay.  Back before our culture evolved to the point of burials in concrete and metal vaults, a deceased person’s body was simply placed in the ground or buried in a wooden box; allowed to return to the earth and become a part of a life-giving cycle.  Perhaps in our contemporary culture we’ve lost a real sense of what we really are; just another part of the circle of life.  We’ve forgotten where we came from, remember Geneses 2:7… “And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground.”  Maybe that’s why for me at least, there is a humbling revelation that comes when I turn the compost pile each year.

 

The handfull of compost and I have much in common.

 

 

More about life at Three Score and Ten

Another malady that has manifested itself during my 70^th year is this ever increasing deposit of fat cells that seems to have settled-in just where I like to wear my belt.  If I have on pants with an elastic waist, there is little problem, but when I use a belt for either cosmetic purposes or functionality (to keep my pants up) it causes annoying pressure and discomfort until the belt is removed.  As a result of this, I’ve grown to love clothing with an elastic waist line.  I used to wonder why so many “old folks” wore sweats and jogging suits, but were seldom seen exercising or jogging.  Now, in my 70^th year, the truth has been revealed and I fully understand this common senior citizen fashion phenomenon.

 Five years ago I had a melanoma cancer removed from the backside of my neck.  My dermatologist apparently did a great job of removing the cancerous tissue because as of my 70^th year, it has not returned.  With cancer, five years and no return is a good thing.  On the other hand, that occurrence initiated the beginning of regular six-month visits to the dermatologist for a body check to monitor the lumps, bumps, and barnacles on various parts of my anatomy.  On these visits, almost without fail, there are spots that get cut off, frozen off or electronically zapped to squelch a pre-cancerous tissue before it can blossom into a problem spot.  All those youthful years of sun exposure which we thought made us have a healthy glow now bless us with age spots, blemishes and cancerous tissue.  As the Amish say, “We grow old too soon and smart too late.”  During these six-month exams, my petite Hawaiian-born dermatologist always gives a passing glance at my buttocks and with a sweet smile says, “That is the best looking skin on your whole body.”  I’m so glad I was never interested in becoming a nudist cause then I’d be having stuff zapped off my butt as well.

Speaking of lumps, several months ago I discovered a small lump under my right arm pit.  After pointing this lump out to my GP on an annual physical visit and his subsequent referral to a surgeon for a second opinion, I was scheduled for “day surgery” to remove this small lump.  The pathology report was good, noting only a glob of hardened fatty tissue with no signs of cancer.  Do you reckon that with all these lumps and bumps maybe there is something to this “three score and ten” thing after all?

My wife Becky reached seventy just a few months ahead of me.  She and I loved to take hikes and walks on a regular basis.  That is until she hit that seventy number.  Suddenly, her right knee began hurting; subsequent visits to the doctor, and a referral to an orthopedic clinic, led ultimately to arthroscopic surgery for a torn tendon.  Following the surgery and physical therapy the knee got worse.  This led to multiple injections of steroids and synovial substances, but nothing really fixed the knee.  After about a year of “try this or try that,” she ended up getting a total knee joint replacement.  The rehab has been painful and slow and now, about three months after surgery she is beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel.  Seems like this “three score and ten” thing may apply to women as well.

It is somewhat troublesome when I think about the patriarchs.  Old Moses, who led his people out of Egypt, didn’t have to worry about blood pressure meds, drug side effects or drug interactions and he lived to be 120.

One of my biggest adjustments to this “three score and ten” age milestone has been mental.  My “want to” attitude has been replaced by a “do I have to” attitude.  Practically all my life I was a “want to” kind of person.  Whether it was work, exercise, travel, learning, or just fun activities, I was always ready to “do it” and “wanted to” do it.  Suddenly, I find myself having to make a conscious decision “to do things” because they “have to” be done, not because I “want to” do them.  I don’t like this change of mentality, but it seems to go along with the changes taking place in my body.  Apparently, my body is talking to my brain.  I’ve heard some folks say, “You are as young as you think you are.”  Apparently their body has not been talking to their brain.

All of these changes in my body during and around this 70^th year have been a reminder that all the parts make up the whole person.    Mind, body and soul are not separate, but function in unity to make us a complete person. 

Speaking from personal experience, the Biblical “three score and ten” seems to apply to my body for sure.  My body is wearing out, showing that it is near the end of its time and approaching the time to “fly away.”    That second component, the mind, is also on the aging track as well.  That “gray matter” that is chocked full of neurons and synapses is a part of the physical body, so it makes sense that it will eventually wear out and lose its ability to function. 

That third component of my being, the soul, is sort of like a hitchhiker on this mortal body.  The soul of man is designed for eternity and will “fly away” when this earthly body ceases to function. I like the way the King James version of Genesis 2:7 describes how God added the “soul” to the man he had made.

And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul

I’ll have to admit that although I become a bit discouraged by some of the “pain and trouble” of the moment, I will keep-on-keeping-on, doing the best I can with this body, mind, and soul.  And, when I think deeply about the time left before I “fly away,” I need to focus on the important stuff of daily living, rather than being sidetracked by doubts, questions, and troublesome physical ailments.  This body of mine has crossed the threshold of the “three-score and ten” so I know what to expect.  Today’s TV commercials want me to believe there is eternal youth in this physical body, but I know that the truth is not in them.  The truth is very simple:  This physical body is time limited and it will expire, so …… “What does it profit a man if he gains the whole word and loses his soul?    (Mark 8:36)

Rambling thoughts by Phil

First Posting...Toe in the Water

My oldest grandson has encouraged me to write about some of my life experiences and I have done so off and on for a number of years.  Writing has also been an emotional outlet for me as I've been polished by family, career, workplace and travel experiences.

Starting to blog is a pretty big "toe in the water" experience for me since I've shared little of my writing in any public format.  Although I've shared some of it with family and a few friends, jumping into the cyber world is a bit different and much more risky.

I'm not really sure what direction this blog will take, but I've found that most writers "write" for themselves and not others, thus that will probably hold true for this blogging effort as well.  For me this blog is a chance to share personal thoughts that may ramble or reflect or even cause others to contemplate their own personal journey.  I will also be sharing from  past experiences that have helped shape my life, personhood, and belief system.  Hopefully it will serve my personal needs and also be something worth reading by others.

Hopefull I can enter something in each posting that will be worth reading.

So for my first few entries I want to share some thoughts on life and aging since that is much on my mind lately. 

Life Happens at Three Score and Ten

 I sometimes think about the Biblical reference to a life span of seventy years found in Psalm 90:10   “Seventy years are given to us!  Some even live to eighty.  But even the best years are filled with pain and trouble; soon they disappear, and we fly away.” (New Living Translation) 

 Based on actuarial information, people seem to be living longer today given better nutrition and health care.  Have you seen the TV commercial where people are given big blue dots to stick on an age timeline indicating the oldest person they know?  Most of the dots are way past age 65.  At the same time, I find it interesting that the “world average life expectancy” for someone born in 2010 was just over 67 years.  So maybe the Biblical “three score & ten” years is not too far off and if you live to be 70, each additional day, month, or year of life beyond 70 is sort of a “gift” or “bonus time” before you “fly away.”

Needless to say, as of this writing I’m still around, but I’ve been thinking about my body and how it is working as I reached this chronological milestone.  The past year or so has caused some focused contemplation on the part of Psalm 90:10 that talks about “pain and trouble.”  If you’ve already reached the three score and ten benchmark, you can probably identify with the “pain and suffering” part as well.  If you are younger, you most likely enjoy what the reality TV shows call “immunity.” Youth has a way of delivering you from much of what I am writing about.

 For me, that old Greek sounding nemesis, Arthritis, has been attacking my many articulated joints, those that glide and those that are hinged are the most troublesome.  Neck, fingers, back, knees and toes seem the get most of Arthur’s attention. I don’t take any medications for this yet, but most days begin with stiffness.  I no longer “jump out of bed” and hit the floor ready to get on with the day.  Before I retired, a friend who had retired several years earlier saw me at the dentist’s office one day.  He said, “Now after you retire, if you’re smart, you won’t set any appointments before 9:00 AM.”  Today, eight years into retirement, there is no doubt that my friend’s advice is some of the best advice I’ve ever had.

The knee joint is an intricately crafted and amazing part of our anatomy giving us great mobility, climbing and jumping abilities, but oh what a pain when it is damaged.  A torn meniscus from some misadventure many years past is somewhat troublesome at times to my left knee, the pain waxing and waning as with the moon.  At the moment it is waxing with intensity, but hopefully it will soon wane as it has over the past twenty years of so.  Several years ago when it was waxing almost to the point of unbearable pain, the orthopedic surgeon I consulted suggested that I just “live with it.”  It could be “fixed” with arthroscopic surgery, but sometimes the arthroscopic surgery aggravates the joint.  The tear may get fixed, but the joint gets worse.  So, as for now, I’m living with it.

 

More thoughts on Life Happens at Three Score and Ten in the next post.