How many of us are in the habit of procrastinating on a regular basis? It's a question I ponder as I review my "to do" list that I made at 4 am this morning. I guess I was a lot more ambitious when I got up than I became later in the day. Oh, there are items that I accomplished, that's not the problem. My problem remains one of not getting everything done that I would like. During my years in seminary we had a class entitled "Time Management For Ministers." One of the object lessons was to write down everything we were doing on an hourly basis, make lists and check them, schedule our time so that it would be put to the best use. At the end of each week we did intensive group analysis of how each of us had fared in the task. I did really well at keeping track of what I was doing and when I was doing it, but failed miserably when looking back at the goals I had set and the things I wanted to get done. They just didn't all "happen," the same way that they didn't all "happen" today. One of my favorite(and most respected)professors, Dick Murray, on campus at SMU(Southern Methodist University, Dallas, Texas)taught me a very special lesson about how to "forgive" ourselves for being human. "God knows you're human," he would say, "you're the only one that doesn't seem to understand that." I think it took a lot of years(20, is that a lot?)for me to come to grips with the intent of the lesson. It goes something like this: If we can't accept forgiveness for our own failings and shortcomings, how can we ever forgive others for theirs? And then it follows that if we can't trust in God's forgiveness, if we can't give to ourselves and others that element of comfort, then our system of Judeo\Christian belief won't stand the test of truth. So, for today, I can not only find that comfort for me, but I can also offer it to you, with complete assurance that we can, and will be, forgiven when we trust in God and His word. I guess more than anything I just needed to tap it all out here so that I could read it and "learn" it again! It's never too late to start, and even the longest of journies begins with the first step. To my classmates and colleagues gathering this week in Dallas, "I wish I were with you once again, the fun, the fellowship, the faith that we learn to walk in, all a vivid work of art within the confines of my mind. Next year, write this down, I will be there at the tower for the reunion!" No procrastination will be tolerated! In Christ's Love, Preacher.
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
The Other Side, Another Side Of South Dakota
(I've got a cake in the oven so this has to be quick)
Hundreds of years went by with the presence of the white man on this continent before the sacred "Black Hills" were discovered to hold the blinding yellow light of gold. When I say "blinding" I mean it in several ways; blind to reason, blind to caring, blind to others, and blind to themselves.
It took well over a hundred years, but the mines are slowly closing down out west. The oldest and largest of them shut down just a few years ago, leaving behind a legend and a legacy. The legends are amusing, not at all like the truths that are discernible, and the legacy will fade, as shall the pollution in the waters. The pollution, however, was not confined to the waters! The pollution continues to grow in the wake of economic boons brought by legalized gambling. As with pretty much all of our "civilized" world one can make the choice to revel in the bright lights and glitter or seek the higher, less traveled paths that lead to vistas unrevealed even in the high tech world in which we live. I've got an old map that shows every road known to the forest service that manages the acres of virtually unexplored national preserve. It was given to my wife and I by an explorer who is still seeking the golden flecks to be found in small streams that wind everywhere throughout the Black Hills. Even in the days of Wild Bill Hickock most of this country remained unvisited, just as it is today. My buddy Tom who only recently sold all of his holdings in Brookings county to move to the hills seeking gold, has a wonderful journey ahead of him. He and his wife are raising a grandson, as so many are doing these days, and starting life over. He knows, as do I, that there is still plenty of gold out there, you just have to find it. I've been panning the stuff off and on since 1965 and have several favorite places to look, but the gold is not the object of the journey, it is just one of the byproducts. It's the journey itself which is the goal. To be out there, in the midst of God's creation. We take the little Harley for journies on gravel, dirt, and forest track. It just seems better fitted to the job.(Gotta stop here, the bell went off)...............(cake is done, "devil's food," now about that icing..........wait 'til it cools)............
OK.....I'm back, where was I? Oh, yeah, the little known areas of the hills. Vast areas of timber stretching for miles in every direction with firetrails, backroads, and paths that lead, well, you have to find one and follow it. The coolest part is parking the scoot when we can't go any further on it and hiking yet further. The unexpected discovery of a fallen roof in the midst of rocks that could only have been the central chimney for a cabin long ago is one of the places I have earmarked for a revisit, this time for pictures! For forty years I've wandered around out there, and for the most part have loved every minute of it. Moses, on the other hand, led his people around in the wilderness for forty years and they were never really happy about it. They wanted to be where the lights and the action were, I'm sure. Maybe a golden calf or two or a little gentlemanly wagering. "Just a few quarters honey. You lost how much?" If you come out this way and you have some time, don't spend it with the tourists, spend it in the midst of the beautiful creation God has given us in this land we call home. There are things to be seen, places to be discovered, and always the possibility of taking gold home with you, even if it is only the "gold" found in the memories of time well spent. God bless, Preacher.
Hundreds of years went by with the presence of the white man on this continent before the sacred "Black Hills" were discovered to hold the blinding yellow light of gold. When I say "blinding" I mean it in several ways; blind to reason, blind to caring, blind to others, and blind to themselves.
It took well over a hundred years, but the mines are slowly closing down out west. The oldest and largest of them shut down just a few years ago, leaving behind a legend and a legacy. The legends are amusing, not at all like the truths that are discernible, and the legacy will fade, as shall the pollution in the waters. The pollution, however, was not confined to the waters! The pollution continues to grow in the wake of economic boons brought by legalized gambling. As with pretty much all of our "civilized" world one can make the choice to revel in the bright lights and glitter or seek the higher, less traveled paths that lead to vistas unrevealed even in the high tech world in which we live. I've got an old map that shows every road known to the forest service that manages the acres of virtually unexplored national preserve. It was given to my wife and I by an explorer who is still seeking the golden flecks to be found in small streams that wind everywhere throughout the Black Hills. Even in the days of Wild Bill Hickock most of this country remained unvisited, just as it is today. My buddy Tom who only recently sold all of his holdings in Brookings county to move to the hills seeking gold, has a wonderful journey ahead of him. He and his wife are raising a grandson, as so many are doing these days, and starting life over. He knows, as do I, that there is still plenty of gold out there, you just have to find it. I've been panning the stuff off and on since 1965 and have several favorite places to look, but the gold is not the object of the journey, it is just one of the byproducts. It's the journey itself which is the goal. To be out there, in the midst of God's creation. We take the little Harley for journies on gravel, dirt, and forest track. It just seems better fitted to the job.(Gotta stop here, the bell went off)...............(cake is done, "devil's food," now about that icing..........wait 'til it cools)............
OK.....I'm back, where was I? Oh, yeah, the little known areas of the hills. Vast areas of timber stretching for miles in every direction with firetrails, backroads, and paths that lead, well, you have to find one and follow it. The coolest part is parking the scoot when we can't go any further on it and hiking yet further. The unexpected discovery of a fallen roof in the midst of rocks that could only have been the central chimney for a cabin long ago is one of the places I have earmarked for a revisit, this time for pictures! For forty years I've wandered around out there, and for the most part have loved every minute of it. Moses, on the other hand, led his people around in the wilderness for forty years and they were never really happy about it. They wanted to be where the lights and the action were, I'm sure. Maybe a golden calf or two or a little gentlemanly wagering. "Just a few quarters honey. You lost how much?" If you come out this way and you have some time, don't spend it with the tourists, spend it in the midst of the beautiful creation God has given us in this land we call home. There are things to be seen, places to be discovered, and always the possibility of taking gold home with you, even if it is only the "gold" found in the memories of time well spent. God bless, Preacher.
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