Worry

Worry

I’ve heard it said it’s wrong to worry

That it shows a lack of faith

A lack of hope

For it allows anxieties to mount

And fears to grow

 

“Let not your heart be troubled”,

For

“His eye is on the sparrow”

I hear them say

With helpful hearts

 

But with hand-wringing, heart-pumping,

 Quickened-breathing I worry

About this

And, about that

 

I worry that I worry

I worry that I should worry

I worry that maybe I worry too much

Oh, the cursed feeling, why must I fret?

 

“Have Peace!” Faith tells me

I listen, hoping . . .

That next, I will given a key

To solve my worry

 

Yet, no key arrives.

Only a soft Voice

From deep within

Calming yet bold

 

I worry that I may not have heard the Voice right

Was there more?

I worry that I will be told to give up on “worry”

I worry what I will do then!

 

The future needs not to be known

As it will be told in time

I need to relax and believe

That all will be fine

 

But, is ignorance truly bliss? Is it better not to know. . .

And go through life

Without plan, without purpose

Then, will there be nothing for us to worry?

 

Worry it seems, is a part of us

For we worry that others will be safe

When they leave us

Or when illness strikes

 

We worry because we do not know

We worry because we are afraid

We worry because we care

We worry because we are human

 

Doubt is worry’s cousin

They both rule this world

“We look through a glass dimly”

And seek the One beyond our Seeking

 

God made us,

And God . . .

Made worry to be within us

Why? I do not know. . .

 

But, that is not mine to worry about

Or is it?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Quandary

There is a Quandary

The hardest part of writing is the words

The hardest part of singing is the song

The hardest part of painting is the canvas.

 

It a gray day, I look for guidance, for inspiration

I am an Artist, you see

I take the mundane and make it unique

I tell you what to think and what to see

That that blue sky means happiness

Or that that tiny bug means hope

These things are there, but the Artist makes them live.

 

My toil is a difficult one.

For while I work alone

I hear my self critique

Loud and clear

 

To give you insight into the world

To show you something that is there, but hidden

We each need to look deep into ourselves

And find that special voice

 

Words on a paper,

Nothing more than that

By themselves they do not mean anything

Yet together, they give everything meaning!

 

The Artist lives in the quandary

Doubt and confusion are my friends

This way or that way, I do not know.

For there are no road signs.

 

There is no painting without a canvas

There is no song without a tune

There is no story without the words

 

How to put them together

How to make them see

How to make them live

 

That is the Quandary

That is the art

That is my fate. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sign-up woes

I often prefer to be alone, though I want to have friends. The problem is that I do not know how to get friends. I wish that there was a sign-up sheet where I could place my name. Under it, someone would write theirs and that would signify friendship. No worry about introductions. It would be nice, if we had something in common, but is that really necessary. This sign-up sheet would have a way for you to end the friendship. Just scratch your name out. And then sign under someone else’s name.
On second thought. . .
The sign-up sheet! Ubiquitous. Everywhere there is a form, a list, a cause to join. I want to participate, but, do I have to sign? The physical form, hanging on a bulletin board may be ok, but once it was put them online, it has become a complicated, exercise in futility.
At the top you are told to print your last name first, then your first name last. I do not use my first name. So now what? Do I use my first initial, and then my middle name, or do I write in my middle name, as if it were my first name, and just leave the middle initial blank. Does anyone really care?
I cannot imagine that there is someone with nothing better to do than to confirm that the name indicated is, in fact, the correct name!
Some sign-up lists end there. But others go farther. They become intrusive. “List three people who have known you for more than a year”.
Really. I was going to include my friend, Roy, who I just met while standing in this line.
But they do not want just those friends name, but their title, their phone number and address, and their relationship to me. To be honest, I do not have that many friends, nor even acquaintances. Of the friends that I have had, learning their name was one of the last things I did. Sometimes, I found out someone’s name by looking at their mail.
You see, I strike up a conversation, and begin talking. I do not ask their name, even if they ask me. Whenever I meet, I say “hi,” or “Hey” or something like that. I am good at faces, but names. Never really cared, so, when the form asks, I am tempted to make up a name.
Wong Fu. Everyone needs a Chinese friend.
Wong Fu and I go way back, we are close. But, you see, he has no address, nor phone. He works here and there. I could put him as reference, for he would vouch. But, technically since he doesn’t “exist”, the people in charge of the form would not approve.
Some forms go farther; they want you to write in a very small box, why you are interested in this position, or spot, or what your views are on a particular subject. I like to write---on paper, but not in a box. I do not know what to say.
On a computer I can write something somewhere else, then, paste it onto the little box. Yet sometimes it does not fit. Just the facts are all that they want. The box is very limiting. . .
Then there will be a sentence that reads, “ if you have anything else to add, include on a separate sheet of paper.”
Oh, Good; time for more indiscriminate writing. As if anyone will care. Don’t they understand I want to finish this form, not expand it? Are these the same people who yell, “ me first”, when volunteer assignments are sought?
Then finally the end of the sign-up sheet is reached. All that is needed is a signature. But first, you must read this disclaimer. Here is where lawyers have had too much free time.
The disclaimer, usually at least a paragraph long, and written in obtuse legalities, reminds you to be truthful in all your previous answers. If you are found to be in error, then the terms of this sign-up are voided, and so on. Now, they want you to sign your name.
Shouldn’t this disclaimer had come first, before I spent my time filling out this form? That now seems like a lot of pressure. I wanted to join this club, and now, because, my friend Roy, who I have known for only five minutes, gave me the number to the local beer joint instead of his home phone, I may be ineligible. Often you do not know that you have something wrong, or omitted, until you hit the “submit” button. Then it is too late!
I do not want to re-type everything because I got one thing wrong.
So once again the sign up has left me vanquished. It won. I slink away. . . Perhaps I’ll play Text Twist—at least I do not need a form. . .

The Semi-possible Dream

The Semi-Possible Dream

One of my favorite songs is The Impossible Dream, from The Man of LaMancha. It is very inspirational and uplifting. For a moment, I feel as I am at a great opera house singing along with the recording.

I like to think that I too can achieve the high ideals that this song entails: “to try when you’re arms are too weary . . . to reach the unreachable star.” Yet often I seem to mire in the mundane; to get lost in the daily trials; to stop short of the goal.

What is it that causes a dream to become achievable? Or, more to the point, how can a dreamer- - who has high goals and objects, who desires to reach as far as is capable—make the dream come true?

                Daydreaming by adults is frowned upon. We are to be at work, living rationally within our means, neither flighty nor chasing after novelty. But dreaming produces vision. And as the world knows, true vision is often missing or distorted.

                On a personal level as well as on the public level the routine pervades our days. The news is full of stories of distress where people just move from one event to the other—disconnected and uninspired.  It is hard to see how dreams can come true.

                And then there are those skeptics—the ones that tell everyone that life is to be endured and suffered. That this is all there is. These exist within the church, the school and throughout the land. They are unhappy and do not dream.  And so, they want to squelch dreams.

                Yet these are ultimately just obstacles. Dreamers dream. That part within us does not conform nor grow weary. It is our oxygen-- our fuel that keeps us going.  To stop dreaming is to stop living.

                My dreams may appear impossible—no doubt some are. I doubt that everyone will travel with jetpacks strapped to our backs. But many dreams are possible, if persistence, patience and humility continue. Thus dreams may not be Impossible, but rather semi-possible.

               

               

 

 

Christians in Nigeria

Information on World Christians

Nigeria

Bullet points

1.       Out of nearly 175 million people, 40% or 80 million are Christians. The rest are Muslim

2.       Most Christians are in South

3.       Christianity arrived in the late 19^th century, from European and American missionaries

4.       The nation has potential to be economically strong, but over 60% live in  poverty.

5.       The violence is between Muslims and Christians, but has roots in colonialism

6.       Boko Haram, the main terrorist group means “Western education is a sin”. They are based in Nigeria.

 

 

Nigeria is one of the most important nations in Africa.  With a population estimated at 175 million, approximately one out of four Africans is Nigerian. Based largely on petroleum, the nation has the second largest economy on the continent, behind only South Africa. It is one of the top ten oil producing nations, and, therefore a large trade partner with the West including the United States.  Although independent since 1960 – an early date for most of the nations of Africa—Nigeria has retained cultural ties to the United Kingdom, its former colonial power. English remains one of the official languages. 

Despite impressive oil revenues many Nigerians remain impoverished. According to the US Government, over 62% of the nation lives in extreme poverty. Corruption and graft are high. Typical of African nations, a large number of tribes and ethnic groups contest for space and power in Nigeria. Economic and cultural inequality is largely dependent on historical affiliations and geographical location.  Culturally there is a stark difference between the southern port cities that prospered under the British and those groups in the interior that were largely overlooked. This geographical divide can be seen in religion.

In regards to religion, Nigeria is evenly divided between Christians (48%) and Muslims (50%).  Over 75 million Nigerians are Muslim. Islam entered Nigeria from the north as early as the 9th century, as a result of conquest from invading tribes and inter-regional trade. Over time it spread west and south throughout the region, usurping local customs as it developed strong cultural ties.

Today the majority of Muslims in Nigeria reside in the north where economic and cultural inequality is greater. Partially as a result of long held hostilities between northern and southern tribes, Islam has become more polemical.   Nine northern states have recently incorporated Sharia Law into their legal system.  The terrorist group Boko Haram, which means, “Western Education is a sin”, was founded and is located in Borno, the northwestern most state.

Countering this are the more than 80 million Nigerian Christians of which nearly 18 million or 40% are Roman Catholic. The remainder is Protestant or adherents of new indigenous denominations such as the African Church.  Because Christianity was introduced by  colonial missionaries arriving  within the past century, it has been viewed by its critics as imported and no part of the traditional African experience. However, the church has thrived as nearly every denomination is present in the country, with Baptist and Anglican among the largest. Lutherans though on their 100^th year remain a relatively small denomination, although they are expanding and are building a seminary.

Currently there is much strife in Nigeria. The reasons are complex but seem to be largely based on past colonial associations and an historical animosity between ethnic groups. Politics and religion have become the interwoven into these old arguments that occur throughout the region. Africa, as Nigeria shows, is at a crossroads between Islam in the North and Christianity in the South. It is also struggling as a continent to recognize its place in the world, and to that end, determining if Westernization provides the best path for success, or whether it needs to shed the cultural traits of its past colonial oppressors. African Christianity then for some is seen as vital and a unifying force, while for others it remains a symbol of the cultural West.

Brave. ( A poem for all of us)

 

I know someone who is really quite brave;

Someone who has withstood a lot, who underwent pain.

Others would have complained more.  But often alone, this one endured.

 

Brave does not seek fame, yet neither does it coward away.

It takes what life has to offer with an open palm.

 

Brave does not give up. It muddles through, somehow, someway.

It never admits that “it can’t”, but neither does it boast that it needs no help.

 

Brave !

 

Like a buggy driver

Like a buggy driver.

For Eight years I have worked as a toll collector. That job is ending this week. Technological advances in the form of high-speed cameras and computers, are making my job obsolete. The new toll roads do not need humans to record transactions.  People either pre-pay with a little device mounted on their cars, or they are sent a bill in the mail. This bill comes from information gleaned from the car’s license plate.

The upside for the consumer is that they do not stop and pay toll. Everything is automated, so the toll road becomes like an interstate highway, with high speeds and no stopping. People, in theory, should arrive at their destination sooner.

This is similar to what occurred nearly 100 years ago. In the early twentieth century the horse and buggy which had been the dominant mode of local transportation for more than 100 years, began to lose its status. The automobile was taking over. It was faster and more efficient. People involved in the horse and buggy business saw their opportunities dwindle. Customers wanted to travel in the new transports, electric streetcars, and automobiles—“horseless carriages”. They were fancy and cool. Horse and buggies on the other hand were old and boring.

Such it is in life. New technologies replace older ones. History books and popular culture embrace these changes as a signs of progress and advancement. Left out however, is the disruption that these new advancements create in the lives of those who were invested in the older technologies. Buggy drivers in 1915 would have seen “the writing on the wall” and, if able, would have tried to get out of that profession. Some would remain for a few more years, especially if they lived in certain areas. But all would know that eventually they would need to learn a new skill for the days of listening to the clomp, clomp, clomp of shoed-horses were quickly ending.

So, here I am 100 years later. My job is obsolete. Luckily tolls were not my passion. I can move to something else. Yet some of my co-workers are not as willing or able. They are driving over forty miles to work at one of the still-open toll plazas, hoping to continue making a living in this job.

 I understand that. I would have liked to have kept my job, for the liked the interaction with the people. But, that is not to be, so like the buggy driver of 1915, I must move on. Progress awaits.