Sleeping on a futon in Vermont

There are days you can't ever forget. It doesn't mean that anything really startling has to happen. There you are in the midst of life, and one of those days comes rolling at you, and it is just like one of the magical days of childhood, like the first Monday after school is out. (John D. MacDonald in "The Empty Copper Sea)

The ideal vacation is when you can connect a few of those kind of days together. Our mid-winter vacation in Vermont has been such an experience. We have spent 4 days playing with grandchild Noah, wandering the streets of Montpelier, visiting a children's museum, shopping at a bakery store, and sleeping on a futon. On Thursday we had lunch at the Coffee Corner in Montpelier where I enjoyed a Belgian waffle with blackberries and whipped cream. Montpelier is the smallest state capital in the country and I have always enjoyed visiting. I especially appreciate the four bookstores within a block of each other. Friday we took an hour drive south to Norwich. After a brief stop at the King Arthur Flour-The Bakery Store we visited the Montshire Museum of Science. This was a "hands-on" and "kid-friendly" experience of blowing bubbles, making fog, being photographed by a "heat camera," and learning about ants and moose. It was an engaging time for the "kid" in all of us. Today, Saturday, a gentle snow has fallen since morning covering everything with about 4" of the beautiful white stuff. This morning I accompanied Noah and his parents to his music class where we sang and danced and played instruments with about a dozen other families. The leader had a fine voice as she played guitar and shared her enthusiasm with us.

Saturday evening we dined on catfish, salmon, and BBQ chicken with sides of spinach, potato salad, and corn bread at The River Run Restaurant in Plainfield. While there we met, Anne Clark, the Super Nanny of Vermont. Anne said she watched the television show and thought; "I can do that" and so she does. Each evening we kiss Noah goodnight, play cards, read, then crawl back onto the futon following another day that I will always remember.

Grace in the Darkness

Our area is beginning to rebound from a destructive wind-storm which plunged over 300,000 families into the dark and cold of February this past Friday. Even today, five days later, 1,400 households remain without power. It was a strange experience to drive through the towns of Saratoga and Ballston Spa over the weekend. Usually bustling stores and restaurants sat empty along the quiet streets and sidewalks as people huddled around woodstoves, fireplaces, and kerosene heaters. Many spent the weekend with nearby family and friends. Isn't it interesting how the removal of the conveniences of our age give folks the rare opportunity to be together, to share, and to converse without the distractions of our modern technology?
As I drove the streets of this alien and powerless world I was impressed by how responsible and courteous everyone was behaving. At four way intersections, the stop lights hung lifeless, lightless, and useless. Drivers, no longer able to depend on an outside authority to determine safe passage, began to acknowledge one another. As I stopped at an intersection I noticed that people made eye contact with one another, communicating with strangers through nods, waves, and smiles. There was a courtesy born of necessity that was very refreshing. People were taking responsibility for not only their own safe passage but also the safety of others. The absence of the working stop-lights did not create anarchy but something resembling grace. An acknowledgement of the rights of the other and an acceptance that we are all in this world together. As St. Paul wrote, ...we're all connected to one another after all. (Ephesians 4:25)

Communication can be difficult!

Found this on Dave Barry's Blog and it gave me a morning laugh. I hope it does the same for you. As Dave says, "OK it's an ad but it's a funny ad". Click Here.

Life at 100!

Can you imagine living to 100 years of age? Evidently many cannot. A friend who does public speaking said that he often asks an adult audience, How many of you would like to live to your 100th birthday? He has been surprised to see that very few, if any, raise their hands. It would seem that the fear of failing health and a declining life style outweighs the hope for longevity. The reality is that some studies have revealed that as many as 15% of those living to be 100 are still living independently. Neenah Ellis spent years interviewing centenarians for a radio series on National Public Radio's Morning Edition in 2000 called "One Hundred Years of Stories." The book, If I Live to be 100 is the story of that life changing and life enhancing experience.
In it she interviews centenarain Harry Shapiro and his wife, Celia, at their home in Washington Heights. I found his words about life and death very thought provoking.
"I'd like another lifetime in the arts. I'd like to plead to the old man. Give me another chance. I still believe in God."
"Do you think about what will happen after you die?"
"I'll be around in some shape or manner. I may be a flash of light, a luminosity. Sometimes, when I watch television, a luminous something comes from my eyes, something comes out of me. I don't know what that is. A light will bulge out of my eyes. Maybe that's the soul, I don't know. We all have a soul, there's no doubt about it. Where He is, what He's made of, I don't know. He might be electricity, a force of nature. I know there is something that holds this mystery together. I pray before I start painting and while I'm working on it. That's why I want another lifetime." Then the author describes this beautiful scene. Sometimes in the afternoon Harry and Celia take a nap together, lie together in bed and listen to music, holding hands. Isn't that a beautiful image of contentment and peace.?
At the end of the story, Harry passes on this advice. "You know what I think prolongs life? Art and music. Beyond that, it is to have a heart full of love. That is the most important thing." If you are planning to make the century mark I don't think you can go wrong by adopting Harry's priorities. What do you think, are you going for 100 years? I think I'll give it a try.

The Strangest Winter Festival Yet!

All across the northern part of the United States communities have come up with creative ways to not only survive the cold months but to celebrate them. The festivals include various activities such as ice sculpting, snow man competitions, racing on ice, swimming in frigid water, etc.. I believe the Town of Nederland, Colorado, located in the Rocky Mountains at 8,236 feet above sea level, has created the most unique winter festival of all. This year they will celebrate the 5th Annual Frozen Dead Guy Days with coffin races, a cryonic parade, a costume ball where you can come dressed as frozen or dead, and a pancake breakfast. Their web site claims that media from around the world come to cover this unique winter festival. Check out the site to learn about the history of this testament to the creativity of one community.

Happy Valentines Day!

We received a lovely hand-made Valentines greeting with a hand painted heart on the cover from my son, daughter-in-law, and grandson in Vermont. In it they write, "Something extra wonderful happens in our area on Valentines day, something that truly amazes us in its simple yet effective message. In the early hours of Valentines Day, some secret person decorates the City of Montpelier with thousands of paper hearts-so as one walks down the streets on Valentines morning, love is truly in the air." What a beautiful image that is. Might we so "love one another" today and everyday that love would be truly "in the air". You can find out more about this unique tradition by clicking on the link to the Lat. 42N blog here.

Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow!

Well it finally feels like winter. After experiencing the warmest January in memory, with temperatures reaching the fifties, we are now chilled by temperatures struggling to get out of the teens. The weathermen are now forecasting the possibility of a true Nor'easter this weekend.
Oh, be still my heart. I yearn for the snow storms of my chilhood. School canceled, schedules out the window, road blocked by drifts that looked like sand dunes in the Sahara. Snow piled so high that my friends and I would leap off the roof of the chicken house with wild abandon and plunge so deep in the snow that others would have to pull us out so that we could do it all again. We would have sledding races that began up on the hill next to the barn, then sweep down through the gate, around the old barn foundation, past the out buildings, between the house and garage, and finally out onto the snow covered road. There would be five, six, maybe seven of us; all speeding down the hill at the same time, imagining we were future olympians. Exhausted and exhilarated we would come into the kitchen, our snow covered and dripping boots, jackets, and hats left on the porch; Mom would pour the hot chocolate into the big white mugs that were usually reserved for the adults coffee. Our frost bitten fingers would throb with a delicious pain as the heat penetrated our frozen exteriors. Now, our faces a ruddy red, we would take the Monopoly game down from the shelf and begin a competition that would last for hours. We would listen to WPTR on the radio. They would be broadcasting from a remote live location down at the four corners in the village. It was only a mile from us but might have well been on the other side of the word because we were most assuredly "snowed in". The radio station would promote crazy contests like inviting young women to show up in a bikini in the midst of the blizzard. We would laugh and fantasize about older girls from school in such apparel. Once the sun went down we would go outside again, the storm over, moonlight glistening off the snow. Dad would warm up maple syrup and we would pour it on the fresh fallen snow and have instant candy.
Oh, how I long for a snow like the one imagined in Robert Frost's famous poem. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound's the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.

Ziggy makes me smile

If you didn't catch the Ziggy comic strip on Sunday, check it out by clicking here. http://www.ucomics.com/ziggy/2006/02/05/ The divine is whispering to our souls all the time if we just open our ears and eyes.

Jack Johnson Connects

One of the simple joys in life is to be introduced to a new author or musician that really connects with your values. The musings and music of Jack Johnson have become that kind of gift for me. I first read about him in an article in the January issue of Men's Journal which I received as a Christmas gift. I discovered that he has released three albums-Brushfire Fairytales, On and On, and In Between Dreams-that have sold seven million copies worldwide. Most recently, he has been writing songs for the upcoming Ron Howard animated film, Curious George. His success aside, Jack seems to have remained grounded in his life and values. The article reported that "After nearly five years of solid work, Jack plans to spend the next couple of years recharging, devoting his time to his wife and their young boy, who's nearly two. Fifty years from now he'd rather be treated like his Dad is treated, as a pillar of this community, rather than as a former superstar. "This is the center of my universe," he says. "Everyone has that spot, the spot where you feel most comfortable. Like sitting under this tree, or hanging out on my parents' front porch." It was so refreshing to read about an artist who is not driven by popularity and adoration of fans.
My favorite songs of the moment are "Breakdown" which compares life to a crosscountry train ride and he sings, "I need this here old train to breakdown, oh please just let me please breakdown" and "I want to break on down but I can't stop now, And I got no time that I got to get to where I don't need to be." I am also enjoying "Good People" as he sings, "Where'd all the good people go? I've been changing channels, I don't see them on the tv shows." Both of these songs are on the "In Between Dreams" cd. Here is a link to a music video of his song, "Sitting, Waiting, Wishing".

Amazing Art

JDS at Latitude 44.2 created a link to some incredible sand fantasy. Thought I would create a link here for my readers who have never seen this creative and fascinating art. Enjoy!

just ducky

I took this photograph about a month ago in Collins Park, Saratoga Springs, NY just before this winter decided to go on hiatus. Since then we have had many days in the 50's. Very strange weather for January. Notice how confused these ducks appear to be. Maybe they had some inkling of what was to come? It appears that they are looking in all four directions. What are they searching for? A leader? A purpose? A safe haven? Now this fella made a different choice. He is striking out on his own. No mass confusion for him. Maybe he's the leader in search of the flock? Or maybe he just prefers to search on his own without the distraction of others. Which do you prefer? To be with the community even when the community is feeling lost? Or to be alone in your searching? I hope these ramblings about ducks don't drive you "quackers". I find direction in Leslie F. Brandt's reimagining of Psalm 121.

Where should I look for help in my need?

To majestic mountain peaks that probe our skies

or to giants of industry that clog our land?

To satellites that circle our world

or to computers that store our knowledge?

The answer to my problems

and the fulfillment of my needs

must come from God Himself,

from Him who created skies and mountains

and men and women (and ducks) to dwell in their midst.

Waiting

We pray and we wait.

We wait and we pray.

Waiting and praying

are interconnected.

Author Nevada Barr in the book, Seeking Enlightment, hat by hat writes that "I pray for things of the spirit: compassion, strength, guidance. I pray for the spirit to sustain me when the world sucks and to grace me with humility and generosity when I hit a winning streak."

I pray and I wait. I wait and I pray.

Waiting and praying are interconnected."but they who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles;they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint." Isaiah 40:31

Biblical waiting is not a passive, paralyzing, waiting if or in case. It is a waiting for, a waiting that results in strength and courage to move ahead at the right time and in the right way.

What's a blog?

I want to express my gratitude to all of you who have told me that you are reading this blog and enjoying its content. Many of you explained that the "Isaac Papers" are serving as your introduction to the world of blogs. With that in mind I decided to write a brief introduction to this world of blogging. Here is a helpful definition.

Blog is short for weblog. A weblog is a journal (or newsletter) that is frequently updated and intended for general public consumption. Blogs generally represent the personality of the author or the Web site.

Blogs are a recent phenomena and have become a very popular form of communication. I created this blog as a way of expressing ideas and passions about the church, family, faith, and life in general. It is my hope that the "Isaac Papers" will become a creative and interactive forum where you will add your thoughts and ideas. You can pursue information by clicking on the highlighted words and you will immediately be linked to a site that will expand on what I am writing about. For instance, to find out more about the history of blogging click here. You can also share your comments and feedback by clicking on the "comments" at the end of each entry. Then simply follow instructions to leave your comment. This way we can carry on a dialogue. This blog is also a way to challenge my own creativity and writing skills as I attempt to share interesting thoughts and ideas. Thank you for your interest in this humble attempt to promote creativity and humor in world.

Long and winding road to faith

The long and winding road that leads to your door,

Will never disappear, I've seen that road before,

It always leads me here,leads me to your door.

The lyrics of the Beatles song, Long and Winding Road, describe the life-long spiritual journey that I have been on. I have not experienced the faith journey as a straight path from "go' to "Ah ha, I've made it". It's been more on again-off again, mountain tops and valleys, lost and found. I have no patience with those who try to describe the spiritual life as something that can be accomplished in four easy steps or as a program of self improvement. Spiritual growth and enlightenment is a journey with a purpose, a road that leads us to the door of the Divine. Donald Miller, writing in Searching for God Knows What proposes the following.

The truth is there are a million steps, and we don't even know what the steps are,

and worse, at any given moment we may not be willing or even able to take them;

and still worse, they are different for you and me and they are always changing.

I have come to believe the sooner we find this truth beautiful,

the sooner we will fall in love with the God who keeps shaking things up,

keeps changing the path, keeps rocking the boat to test our faith in Him,

teaching us not to rely on easy answers, bullet points, magic mantras, or genies in lamps,

but rather in His guidance, His existence, His mercy, and His love.

answered prayers

Youngest son, John, pictured above with his favorite musical artist, Billy Joel; underwent emergency surgery last Thursday to replace the valve in his vp shunt. This is the sixth revision of the shunt that John received shortly after birth. This young man's story is a testament to God's grace, human resolve, medical advances, the power of love and prayer. Weighing just an ounce over two pounds, hydrocephalic and afflicted with cerebral palsy, suffering a brain hemorrhage; the odds against John's survival were long indeed. But John has not only survived but thrived. He is now 19 year's old and has displayed great musical talent. He is an accomplished vocalist, plays keyboard and harmonica extraordinarily well and is also self-taught on guitar, drums, and accordion. When asked if he was ready to go into the operating room on Thursday evening, he replied; "Get-R- Done!" On Saturday evening, just 48 hours after surgery, he insisted in playing harmonica with our contemporary "Spirit Cafe" band. Each day of my life I am inspired by John's spirit and his commitment to living life to the fullest.

And the beat goes on....

Throughout this weekend I am wearing a blood pressure monitor which takes a reading of my blood pressure every 20 minutes. It has been quite a learning experience so far. Every twenty minutes my life is interrupted by two electronic beeps that announce the gentle squeeze on my arm as the blood pressure cuff inflates. The expression "time flies" has taken on a new meaning. Twenty minutes is experienced as the briefest of times; a moment, a hiccup, a blink of an eye. Each subsequent squeeze is a reminder that time cannot be halted. Each twenty minutes is a precious gift not to be squandered but to be enjoyed.
The cuff's inflation and deflation as the monitor reads my blood pressure is a manifestation of the miracle of the human body. Without any conscious effort on my part, the beat goes on. The heart beats and blood flows through an interstate system of arteries and veins and the result is life. We go about our business, sleeping, eating, loving, working, and playing and the beat goes on. Until this anatomical miracle breaks down we simply take it for granted. On this weekend, every twenty minutes, I remember the words of the Psalmist:

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;

your works are wonderful,

I know that full well.

(Ps. 139:14)

Reflecting on Martin Luther King, Jr.'s Legacy

I have been thinking about Martin Luther King, Jr. as we approach the holiday named in his honor. The 1/9 issue of "Time" magazine contains some very revealing excerpts from the book; At Canaan's Edge: America in the King Years 1965-1968, the final volume of Pulitzer prizewinner Taylor Branch's three part history of King and the movement he led. On February 4, 1968, King preached a sermon in which he said, "Every now and then I think about my own death." Then he began to imagine his funeral where he hoped that someone would mention that "Martin Luther King, Jr. tried to give his life serving others.....Yes, if you want to say that I was a drum major, say that I was a drum for justice! Say that I was a drum major for peace-I was a drum major for righteousness-and all the other shallow things will not matter."
Martin overcame many obstacles to make his mark on the world. He never had the financial resources and the political power of those who opposed him. Yet, he was victorious because of his sense of purpose and determination. Sometimes in life that is all we have in our corner and it is worth more than we can imagine. Knowing what is important in our life, our values, our "higher calling" can help us overcome the most powerful opposition.
This dynamic is dramatically depicted in the 2004 film, Million Dollar Baby. Clint Eastwood directed this story about an aging trainer, Frankie Dunn, played by Eastwood himself, and a determined young woman, Maggie, played by Hilary Swank. There is a powerful scene where Maggie is fighting for the first time under Dunn's supervision. Hilary Swank's character is getting beaten badly by her opponent, the bell rings and she goes to her corner where she and Eastwood have this exchange.

Maggie: She's tough. I can't get inside. I can't get close enough to hit her.

Dunn: You know why that is?

Maggie: Why?

Dunn: She's a better fighter then you are, that's why. She's younger, stronger, more experienced.

Now what are you gonna do about it?

As the bell rings, Maggie returns to the ring more determined then ever and soon knocks her opponent out.

On this Martin Luther King, Jr. holiday we remember that Martin left a legacy because his spirit and faith would not allow him to accept defeat.

Life Expectancy

"I do not define life expectancy by the length of life, but by the quality of it, by what I expect from it and by how well my expectations are met. What I have learned....is that the more you expect from life, the more your expectations will be fulfilled. By laughing, you do not use up your laughter, but increase your store of it. The more you love, the more you will be loved. The more you give, the more you will receive."

The words above were written by best selling author Dean Koontz in his book, Life Expectancy. I was reminded of them this weekend as I led a retreat for eleven 7th and 8th grade students. For 40 hours we laughed and loved and gave and received. Adolescents have a great capacity for living life to the fullest when encouraged and given the opportunity to uniquely express themselves. I hope these few photos reflect their energy and enthusiasm. I thank them for being my teachers as well as my students.

"Murderball"

I just finished experiencing the "Murderball" DVD. This is one of the most exhilarating and inspirational films I have ever seen. It is a documentary about the USA Paralympic Rugby Team. These quadriplegic athletes demonstrate a level of competitiveness and skill to rival any professional athlete in any sport. The game is played on a regulation size basketball court in modified wheelchairs and is definitely a full contact sport. The wheelchairs are built for both speed and collision as the players crash into one another in an attempt to tip over rival players. The film portrays these young men as complete persons who experience the whole range of human emotion. It was so great to experience a movie about people with disabilities that doesn't affirm stereotypes or portray them simply as people to be pitied. The men in this film challenge our perceptions about them and encourage the viewer to live life more fully. This film is rated "R" for very strong language and a brief segment about the sexual lives of the athletes.

Ordinary Time

Grandsons Jacob and Noah on Christmas Day!

Columnist Diane Cameron, in Sunday's paper, proposes that; While we delight in holidays, we know that our ordinary time is much more precious. Our ordinary days, though they don't often make it to photo albums, are the days in which we are living our real lives. Those of us who are addicted to work, to action, to production; lack an appreciation of ordinary time. We are always focused on deadlines, goals, and hitting the "home run". We experience "ordinary time" as an inconvenience and a nuisance. Ordinary time, to the workaholic, is non-productive and an obstacle to accomplishing what needs to be done.
A recent illness has caused me to adopt a reduced work schedule and experience "ordinary time" differently. I have begun to embrace the truth of Cameron's words that "ordinary time" is where we are living our real lives. It is in the ordinary rhythm of life that we are blessed with the simple gifts that make life worth living. A hug from a grandchild, a meal around the kitchen table, a cup of tea and the morning newspaper, an intimate conversation with a spouse, watching the birds at the bird feeder in the whiteness of a snowfall. These activities are not productive in the way I usually define the word but produce in me a sense of peace and happiness that I have rarely felt before. I guess the author of Ecclesiastes really did know what he was talking about when he said: