Jayber Crow

Jayber Crow by Wendell Berry is my favorite book ever. I have been wanting to share parts of it, but only today have I had enough time to type it all out. So, here is my favorite passage. It really doesn't have, too much to do with the overall story line, but it does clearly display Mr. Berry's writing genuis. It should make you want to get in the car and head to your favorite bookstore. Ok, that is all. You shall be changed.

Imagine a hunter, somebody from a city some distance away, who has a job he doesn’t like, and who has come alone out into the country to hunt on a Saturday. It is a beautiful, perfect fall day, and the Man feels free. He has left all his constraints and worries and fears behind. Nobody knows where he is. Anybody who wanted to complain or accuse or collect a debt could not find him. The morning that started frosty has grown warm. The sky seems to give its luster to everything in the world. The Man feels strong and fine. His gun lies ready in the crook of his arm, though he really doesn’t care whether he finds game or not. He has a sandwich and a candy bar in his coat pocket. And then, not looking where he was going, which is easy enough on such a day, he steps onto the rotten boards that cover one of those old wells, and down he goes.

He disappears suddenly out of the light world. He falls so quickly that he doesn’t have time to even ask what is happening. He hits the water, goes under, comes up, swims, or clings to the wall, inserting his fingers between the rocks. And now, I think, you cannot help imagining the way it would be for him. He looks up and sees how far down he has come. The sky that was so large and reassuring only seconds ago is now just a small blue picture of itself, far away. His first thought is that he is alone, that nobody knows where he is; these two great pleasures that were his freedom have now become his prison, perhaps his tomb. He calls out (for might not somebody chance to be nearby, just as he chanced to fall into the well?) and he hears himself enclosed within the sound of his own calling voice.

How does the story end? Does he save himself? Is he athletic enough, maybe, to get his boots off and climb out, clawing with fingers and toes into the grudging holds between the rocks of the wall? Does he climb up and fall back? Does somebody, in fact, for a wonder, chance to pass nearby and hear him? Does he despair, give up, and drown? Does he, despairing, pray finally the first true prayer of his life?

Listen. There is a light that includes our darkness, a day that shines down even on the clouds. A man of faith believes that the Man in the Well is not lost. He does not believe this easily or without pain, but he believes it. His belief is a kind of knowledge beyond any way of knowing. He believes that the child in the womb is not lost, nor is the man whose work has come to nothing, nor is the old woman forsaken in a nursing home in California. He believes that those who make their bed in Hell are not lost, or those who dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, or the lame man at Bethesada Pool, or Lazurus in the grave, or those who pray, “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani.”
Have mercy.

Stay-at-home me

To let you know, I have been a stay-at-home Dad for almost a year and a half now. My wife, Tracy, goes off to work everyday while I stay at home with our daughter, Corban. Yep, I am Mr. Mom. I do it all….the diapers, the laundry, the dishes, and anything else you can think of. Somebody pat me on the back internet style. That feels nice.

It is interesting the glances I get sometimes out in public. On Tuesday’s I take Corban to the old White House Public Library (it is really a large white house!) where they have a sing-a-long, reading time thingy. I am always the only male present. Today, a little girl pointed at me saying to her Momma, "It’s a Momma." Her Mother quickly corrected her, "No, that is a Daddy."

Here in the South, men go off to put food on the table while women take care of the chullen’. This is just how it is. So, someone like me doesn’t fit the mold at all. Its not that I really want to be doing this kind of thing, but right now it is simply the best thing for our family. We save A LOT of money because we don’t do daycare. Also, I feel I am blessed to have this time with my girl in her beginning years. Not many Dads get this opportunity. But I must confess that sometimes during the day I feel like a sissy.

In the Spring, I am going back to school to finish up my teaching degree. The plan is for Tracy and I to switch roles again. She would love to be home and I am dying to be out working once again. Not to say that what I am currently doing is not work. It is work indeed and I have a new found respect for Moms everywhere.

*I just paused in my writing to feed Corban a “Naaa-Nuhh.”(Translation: Banana) The work never ends.

Ok, that is all I have today. Any stay-at-home Dads reading this blog? Leave a comment to let me know I am not alone and also not a sissy.

Happy Early Thanksgiving

"My Grandmother lives in a condominium."

-Charlie Brown

sick baby

Yep, my little girl has got a cold. She started coughing on Friday and most of the weekend she just took long naps. I went out yesterday to get a movie to cheer her up. After looking for Polar Express at three different stores I finally settled on "A Christmas Carol" with the original Rudolph cartoon as a special feature. She likes Rudolph, but Scrooge is not her cup of tea. We tried to watch the black and white version first and she soon got bored. Oh, well maybe when she is a little bit older. I have been reminded of how much I enjoy Dickens' storytelling. I need to go back and read some more of his stuff.

Despite Corban's sickness things are going pretty well for us. Corban is starting to walk which is an amazing thing to watch as a parent. I hold my hands out and she ever, so carefully walks to me. This whole process reminds me of a passage in Mere Christianity. I gave away my copy of the book, but I managed to find a manuscript on the net. Here is the quote which is really Lewis quoting his master, George MacDonald.

As a great Christian writer (George MacDonald) pointed out, every father is pleased at the baby's first attempt to walk: no father would be satisfied with anything less than a firm, free, manly walk in a grown-up son. In the same way, he said, "God is easy to please, but hard to satisfy."

Lewis, in this certain chapter is talking about God's command at the end of Matthew 5. "Therefore be perfect as your Heavenly Father is perfect." He argues rather convincingly that God aims to make his children perfect. The only help he will give, Lewis says, "is the help that leads to perfection."

Seeing Corban walk makes me happy. Every new step is a delight. However, if she never progressed from this point I would be disappointed. She pleases me now with her effort, but I long for her to walk strong one day. I want to chase her around in the backyard.

I suppose it will all come soon enough....after she gets over her cold. Time to give more medicine. Benadryl and lots of sleep. I am a blessed man.

My hero

This is Francis Schaeffer. If you don't know who he is you should really take some time to learn about his life and pick up some of his books. He is my hero for many reasons, but mainly for his love of not only truth, but of people. In the 50's, he and his family bought a chalet on the side of a mountain in Switzerland and opened it to the public. One by one, students and seekers traveling through Europe stumbled upon what he called L'Abri(meaning "shelter") It became a place where travelers could ask their questions of God and of existence and in turn receive solid answers. No one was turned away and everyone was listened to and treated with upmost respect as one created in the image of God. Schaeffer really believed this core truth as is reflected later in his life in his fight against abortion. The L'Abri retreat in Switzerland still exists and people from around the world still come to stay in search of truth and meaning in life. Below is one of my favorote quotes by the peculiar man with the goatee. He really has changed my life though we have never met and will not until glory. Till then I aim to live out his legacy of love for all.

"Christianity is not a series of truths in the plural, but rather truth with a capital "T." Truth about total reality, not just about religious things. Biblical Christianity is Truth concerning all reality--and the intellectual holding of that Total Truth and then living in the light of the Truth."

New music

My first one.mp3

So, I am a songwriter and songwriters write songs and play them for others. I have been doing it since 2000 or so. Here is one of my new songs which will appear on a ep I'm releasing in January. This ep will be available for FREE download right here on my site. You will hear more about the whole thing real soon. In the meantime, click on the above creature playing guitar and listen to an unmixed version of a song called "My first one."

Let me know what you think.

Vision

Vision is important to America. I had not thought about this fact until this morning. Everyone seems to have a pair of glasses or contacts. Lasik surgery is all the rage. My friend, now in the secret service, had to get the surgery to go forward in the application process. Apparently, you can't guard the president if you don't have perfect 20/20. This is a good thing.

I have always wondered about the blind man. Does he see much more than the seeing and more clearly? We know he misses out on a lot, but does he miss out on the truly important things? Does he not still hopefully know what it means to be loved and cared for? The clouds maybe lost, but he has the wind. He see's as much of the wind as the Lasik perfected person. On this, the blind and seeing stand on level ground.

Christ said, "The eye is the lamp of the body; so then if your eye is good, your whole body will be full of light..."

Vision is truly important. Sight is a beautiful gift in itself, but we must see the world in such a way, as to illuminate our very beings. We really do need good eye's. One's that know truth and see it in pretty much everything.

Our Lord goes on to say, "But if your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light that is in you is darkness, how great is that darkness!"

Bad eyes are a recipe for darkness within. When we stop seeing light in the world we stop shining ourselves. Our light turns to darkness and leaves us all alone. Light reveals the crowd, the community; darkness keeps you thinking you're on your own.

Annie Dillard in her novel, A Pilgrim at Tinker Creek says
"If I seek the sense and skill of children, the information of a thousand books, the innocence of puppies, even the insights of my own city past, I do so only, solely, and entirely that I might look well at the creek."

We are implored to look well at not only the creek near our house, but the world and all its people, every last and lowly one. Our goings about and our questioning and learning are to do what glasses, contacts, and Lasik cannot. It seems it works both ways. Inside, we must shine to see well and we must see well to shine....on the inside and out. That old hymn with the Irish melody is stuck in my head. "Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart..." Yes, indeed, please do.

Great Pumpkin Massacre

Saturday night, coming back from a chili cook off(not sure who won) Tracy and I with Corban in the back seat drove through what I am calling the Great Pumpkin Massacre of '07. We saw the first one busted on the right shoulder and then before we knew it, remains were everywhere, which made driving pretty interesting. All I could think about at the time were drunken teenagers throwing stolen pumpkins to the asphalt from the back of a pick-up truck. Maybe that was how it happened. I knew people back in high school that did such things. I went once with friends to push Porta-O-Pot's over, but that was about the extent of my destruction.

Yesterday morning I traveled the same road to church and passed the carnage once more. This time I couldn't help, but think of other people in far away countries that I imagine have traveled their main road many times to find real destruction in path. Scenes from Hotel Rwanda swirled in my brain leaving me longing for peace and love for the world. But then in my hurt I was reminded just then that life is relentless and daring. Ten turkeys, out of nowhere, slowly pranced right in front of me, as I neared the end of the pumpkin mess. Then glancing right to the field where the birds were heading I noticed two deer standing under a tree. Death and violence had overcome me and just at the right time Life showed its face once again. It felt like God in that moment whispered, “Look a here.”

I have wrestled lately with the issue of war. Ken Burn’s documentary on War World 2 has been fuel for the fire and has helped me develop my thoughts. I still don’t have it all figured out, but I am convinced more than ever that Life though pushed down and beaten will always rise again. Didn’t Jesus prove that on the third day? And again he proved that to yawning me on the way to church yesterday. With those turkey and deer he rolled the stone away once again. I was sure I was traveling Long Hollow Pike, but maybe yesterday it was for that moment the road to Emmaus.

“Were not our hearts burning within us while He was speaking to us on the road…”
Luke 24:32

Here I am again

Well, I have stumbled back to the blogging world and I do hope that this is for good. I commit to write at least once a week for as long as this old intranet deal remains up and running. So, that means I'll be writing till I reach the grave. The internet I have a feeling is here to stay for better or for worse. Oh, I need help to stay diligent.

Thanks for coming and I do hope you come back sometime soon. Someone really needs to make sure I am keeping my promise.

Till soon.