Quote of the Week: Small Steps of Love

"How can we choose love when we have experienced so little of it? We choose love by taking small steps of love every time there is an opportunity. A smile, a handshake, a word of encouragement, a phone call, a card, an embrace, a kind greeting, a gesture of support, a moment of attention, a helping hand, a present, a financial contribution, a visit ... all these are little steps toward love. Each step is like a candle burning in the night. It does not take the darkness away, but it guides us through the darkness. When we look back after many small steps of love, we will discover that we have made a long and beautiful journey." -- Henri Nouwen, from his book Bread for the Journey

Games With God by Virginia Hamilton Adair

It's not too often that we see a poem (other than Lamont's) grace this blog, but I came across this one in the book Beliefs and Blasphemies and thought it was playful and fun. It's by Virginia Hamilton Adair.

GAMES WITH GOD

I played, a child both wild and meek,
with God at games of hide-and-seek.
I searched in vain the usual places
and found a thousand saddened faces.

"Your God is hidden in heaven," they said;
"You'll see him only when you're dead."
How could I make them understand
God often took me by the hand?
Then as my tears began to fall
I felt his touch and heard his call,
"I never hid from you at all."

I played with God a game of tag,
his mantle flying like a flag.
I gave my God a good head start
but caught him running in my heart.

I played with God the game "I Spy,"
but lost him with my fading eye,
till playmate God in his pure kindness,
printed his image on my blindness.

From Poison Ivy to Halls of Ivy

T-- and I attended our graduation ceremony last Sunday. Barely. We were coming off a long weekend spent at camp in Penn Yan with the young people from church and we had a late start on the road. Then we missed the turn for the NYS Thruway and wasted a half hour cruising around the Fingerlakes. But all our anxiety was for nothing (as usual) as we ended up at the Buffalo State College campus with a few minutes to spare.

We were quickly ushered into a basement hallway where we put on our gowns and caps. I felt a little foolish as I took a look at myself reflected in a window pane. I kept feeling the urge to say, "Welcome to Hogwarts," to everyone I saw. We lined up and proceeded to walk into the auditorium.

After a half-dozen speeches we were called to the stage one by one to shake a few hands and receive a pin and a medallion. The medallion is really cool looking. Does everyone get one when they graduate? I thought I would just get a piece of paper. Then it was time to say visit with the faculty and get some pictures with family.

I originally hadn't planned on going to graduation. It just seemed like a waste of money and time. Because Empire State College is a distance learning school without a campus we were using another college's auditorium, and it wasn't like this was going to be my last chance to socialize with my classmates because I had never met any! Plus, as anyone who has ever visited my church will attest, I don't go in much for ceremony!

But T-- talked me into it because my favorite professor was speaking. And I'm so glad I went. It provided me an opportunity to celebrate with family and friends. And even though I had received my diploma in the mail months ago, I hadn't yet experienced the sense of accomplishment that I felt on Sunday afternoon. Now I actually feel like "I graduated."

Maybe there's a lesson in all this. So often I just rush from one commitment to another. Perhaps I would feel a little more satisfaction in life if I paused for a moment to appreciate the accomplishment of a job well done before jumping headfirst into the next thing on my to-do list.

TEAM

This is a team
We need to work as one.
Our focus, funtion and motivation
centered on the center.

This is a team
Not a solo act
With middlemen, hucksters and clowns
Hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder
Strong and commanding.

This is a team
But my burden seems too heavy
My input isn’t equaling what my output should be.

My team needs to pick me up,
Carry me to the sidelines
Allow me to rest by the Gatorade cooler…

This is my team, my life, and my hope.
Cover my back while I catch my breath.

Don't make me angry... You wouldn't like me when I'm angry...

Nothing makes such drudgery as a day spent around angry people. Work, for a variety of reasons, has turned into an emotional minefield of late, resulting in a variety of "friendly fire" incidents. I've been asked to intervene in a particular situation in which neither party will even consider the possibility that the other person might not be entirely at fault. I'm working with a father and son who aren't on speaking terms. My circle of friends is dealing with the emotional mushroom cloud that continues to fallout from a person with real passive/aggressive issues. My wife and I are taking a group of high school students on a retreat this weekend, which usually results in one good blowup between young people.

Will I sound too much like Stuart Smalley if I ask "Why can't we all just get along?" It's not that anyone seems to be enjoying all this warfare -- with the exception of Ms. Passive/aggressive -- but nobody wants to lay down their arms, either.

Maybe we'd all do a lot better if we heeded the words of author Frederick Buechner: "Of the Seven Deadly Sins, anger is possibly the most fun. To lick your wounds, to smack your lips over grievances long past, to roll over your tongue the prospect of bitter confrontations still to come, to savor to the last toothsome morsel both the pain you are given and the pain you are giving back -- in many ways it is a feast fit for a king. The chief drawback is that what you are wolfing down is yourself. The skeleton at the feast is you..."

A diamond prayer

disconnected
thirsty lost
pray read meditate
get to know you
met me at oasis
obey seek continue
intimate refreshed
close

Dumping Ground

Okay, I'll admit it: I've been dieting for the last month. It was something that I've wanted to do -- uh, desperately needed to do -- for a very long time.

I've always known that weight loss wasn't something I could accomplish all on my own. I'd need to be accountable to someone who could teach me healthy eating habits and monitor my progress.

And that's been the rub for years. It takes a lot of courage for me to admit to another person that I need help. It's kind of comical, really -- a 300 + lbs. guy who was afraid to tell anyone that he needed to lose weight. As if no one would notice if I kept my mouth shut, right?

I finally chose a weight-loss center that didn't require me to buy supplements or special food. Because the way I think of it, a diet is something you have to be able to live on. You can't starve yourself until you reach your goal weight and then go right back to the Golden Arches. The plan has worked for me so far: I never feel like I'm starving, I feel a lot better physically, I've dropped 21 lbs. and my blood pressure is down.

I also benefit from the accountability of the center. I have to go weigh-in three times a week which gives me that little extra push that I need to stay on course. The clinicians also ask me questions about how the diet is going, etc. One question that never fails to crack me up though is "When was your last bowel movement?"

I understand that when you're weighing a person three times a week that the amount of stool they're carrying around can throw all their measurements off. But c'mon -- even for the most noble of purposes, how should I respond to that kind of question?

Sometimes I make jokes:

"Just an hour ago. It was GREAT!"

or

"I haven't since yesterday. It's as if I have a cork inside of me. And I'm not one of the 'one in seven guys' who enjoys that sort of thing!"

or

"Just what exactly constitutes a bowel movement?"

I can always get one of the clinicians to laugh, but the other two somehow are able to maintain a stoic expression akin to a Buckingham Palace Guard. So I sheepishly whisper, "Today," as I stare at the floor.

One time I was horrified to answer the question because I hadn't gone since the day before. So I did what any well-adjusted college graduate would do: I LIED. I don't know why, but I was just too embarrassed to admit that I hadn't gone to the can since the day before. It's not like I expected her to call the police or put on a pair of rubber gloves and bring out a hose. Which one in seven guys enjoys, by the way.

Isn't it strange how embarrassed I get about normal things? (It just occurred to me that although I obsessively blog about most everything, it took me more than a month to address the diet in the blog.)

So here it is, world... I'm going to come clean about myself: I'm fat, I'm on a diet, and I have bowel movements... but not everyday!

Hooray for Horror Wood!

I just had a piece published in Horror-Wood, an online horror movie magazine! I wrote about the TV movie experience and the so-bad-its-good telefilm Scream of the Wolf starring Peter Graves. You can read the article by clicking this link.