Vicit Agnus Noster

Today I was listening to Michael Card's Christmas CD, The "Promise". I do this as I work in order to block out the surrounding office noise. Suddenly I realized that I was listening to "Vicit Agnus Noster". One-hundred percent of my attention was on the music and the lyrics. I was transfixed, hyptnotised maybe. I became somewhat agitated as my three years of Latin education failed me as I tried to translate the songs title and lyrics. It was further frustrating in that I had gone through this exercise times before and I failed to stir up the mental powers to retrieve that which I had already commited to memory.

As I was soon to understand this was part of the plan. I opened Yahoo and keyed in 'Vicit Agnus Noster'. For some unknown but Spirit led reason, I bypassed the first three entries and clicked on the fourth one. I found myself on the Michael Card web page with the songs lyrics and a devotional from Michael Card. I was blown away by the simplicity of the paradox presented by Vicit Agnus Noster, our Lamb has conquered.

Here are the lyrics from the song.

Vicit Agnus Noster

Vicit Agnus
Vicit Agnus
Noster eum sequamur

Did Abraham himself not say
God would provide a lamb
To take instead the punishment
That should belong to man

And so to humble shepherds
Was His glory first revealed
And with His birth a covenant
Made long ago was sealed

Vicit Agnus
Vicit Agnus
Noster eum sequamur

Out of His dark obscurity
The Light of God has shone
And through the meekness of the Lamb
God's strength would be made known

The just and gentle Promised One
Would triumph o're the fall
And conquer by His own defeat
And win by losing all


Had I been able to recall the Latin translation of 'Vicit Agnus' I would never gone to Yahoo and had I not gone to Yahoo I would not have been touched by Michael Card's devotional on the subject. Following is the devotional as written by Michael Card. "Vicit agnus noster eum sequamur." - Dan

(vicit agnus noster eum sequamur is an ancient Latin motto which means, "our Lamb has conquered, Him let us follow.")

Should the motto not read, "vicit leo noster eum sequamur," "our Lion has conquered, Him let us follow?" What is the meaning of the motto as it stands? "Our Lamb has conquered." How is it that we have come to follow One who is predominantly represented as a lamb? Where does the paradox come from that teaches weakness is strength, defeat is victory and poverty wealth? The paradox is rooted in this disturbing image of the conquering Lamb.

Throughout most of the Bible He is not the lamb who conquers, but the one who is Himself conquered. In the Old Testament the lamb is the helpless, innocent substitute and sacrifice. It is slain to be consumed. Its' blood is splattered on the doorposts to mark the homes of the faithful so that the angel of death will 'Passover'(Ex.12). The Old Testament lamb is victim not victor.

Likewise, throughout most of the New Testament, when the Lamb of God appears He seems the most unlikely candidate to conquer. He is born in a stable, like a lamb. He is first recognized by shepherds who themselves have just come from the fields and the birthing of other lambs. Except for a couple of incidents, primarily at the Temple when His "lionish" side surfaces, He is the innocent even weak lamb. He is finally apprehended at Passover and slain precisely during the three hour period when the other Passover lambs are being sacrificed, his own forsaken cries echoing together with the helpless bleating of those other sacrificial lambs. According to exact ritual observance the bones of the Lamb are not broken in the sacrificial process, ironically by two soldiers who couldn't have cared less about ritual observance (Jn.19:31-36). And even as the other lambs are eaten so He had earlier instructed His disciples to consume the bread that was His body. At the moment of His resurrection, when we might expect to hear the roaring of the Lion of Judah, we instead hear nothing but the confused shouts of the women witnesses, whose testimony would have been unacceptable in their own society.

It is not until the close of the New Testament in the book of Revelation that the Conquering Lamb appears. Though still portrayed as being slain, He is yet the One who has conquered.

In the first scene in chapter 5 John is standing amongst a great crowd witnessing an angel flying about with a scroll which no one, it seems, is worthy to open. So caught up is John in the vision that he begins to weep. He understands that if the scroll is not opened history itself cannot unfold.

Then one of the elders standing alongside John in the midst of the great crowd says to him, "Do not weep! See, the Lion of the tribe of Judah... has triumphed...!" "The Lion" says the elder. So John looks up, blinking back the tears expecting to see just that. But what does he see?

"Then I saw a Lamb, looking as if it had been slain..." John sees not a lion but a lamb, a triumphant Lamb, sitting on a throne. The unfolding of the image of the conquering Lamb has begun.

The second scene is from chapter 17. John has been transported to the desert where he sees a woman, a prostitute, astride a detestable scarlet beast. A conflict is about to erupt between her dark forces and the Lamb.

v.14 "They will make war against the Lamb, but the Lamb will overcome them because he is King of kings and Lord of lords- and with him will be his called, chosen and faithful followers."

The final scene, in chapter 19, takes place amidst the roaring sound of a great multitude in heaven. It is the long-awaited marriage supper of the Lamb, the final consummation of a romance that will last forever between the Lamb and His followers, His Bride. The context is exultant worship. The opening words of the thundering multitude "Hallelujah!" The conquering Lamb is finally wed. History has come to full blossom. It is the Kingdom. It is heaven.

Christmas, the celebration of the first Coming of the Lamb, looks back to the humble stable and the simple shepherds. The setting is a dark, fallen world. He has come to expose through his weakness the impotence of what the world calls power. He has come to show us that it is we who are upside down.

In that sense, Christmas is a preparation for the celebration that will be the second Coming of the Lamb triumphant. The contrast between the settings of the two Comings could not be more extreme. Instead of a silent stable and a bunch of motley shepherds, there will be a resplendent multitude whose praise can only be described as a "roar."

prayer:
Oh Lamb of God, innocent, helpless One, born in a stable, held in shepherds' arms, sleeping in the hay. You are the Lamb, our Lamb, meek, gentle and spotless Victim.

Yet you are the Lamb victorious. You have conquered sin and death. You have overcome the evil one. The throne is Yours. The glory Yours. We look up to see the lion and yet it is still You that we see, both reigning and slain. And You bid us follow.

This Christmas make us mindful of what Your first Coming means. Enfold us in the paradox that is the wisdom of it. Let this Christmas clear our vision so that we might look ahead and upward to Your second Coming. Let us await, a faithful Bride, longing for the feast.

Mr. Gorbachev, tear down that wall!

The world recently passed the anniversary of the tearing down of the Berlin wall. This one act provided freedom to a generation that could only dream in their hearts how freedom would feel. This one act provided another generation the ability to accept this new found freedom and do what ever it takes to keep it, nourish it and prosper within its vast opportunities. Sadly as the world observed this event, the world’s press chose to ignore the true architect of the destruction of the Berlin Wall, Ronald Wilson Reagan. Instead they chose to trot out Mikhail Gorbachev as the ‘hero’. To that end I present a tribute, in his own words, to the true hero, the true champion of Freedom, President Ronald Reagan: A Voice for Every Generation.

“America needs God more than God needs America. If we ever forget that we are One Nation Under God, then we will be a nation gone under.”

“Here's my strategy on the Cold War: We win, they lose.”

“The most terrifying words in the English language are: I'm from the government and I'm here to help.”

“The trouble with our liberal friends is not that they're ignorant; it's just that they know so much that isn't so.”

“Of the four wars in my lifetime, none came about because the U.S. was too strong.”

“I have wondered at times about what the Ten Commandments would have looked like if Moses had run them through the U.S. Congress.”

“The taxpayer: That's someone who works for the federal government but doesn't have to take the civil service examination.”

“Government is like a baby: An alimentary canal with a big appetite at one end and no sense of responsibility at the other.”

“The nearest thing to eternal life we will ever see on this earth is a government program.”

“It has been said that politics is the second oldest profession. I have learned that it bears a striking resemblance to the first.”

“Government's view of the economy could be summed up in a few short phrases: If it moves, tax it. If it keeps moving, regulate it. And if it stops moving, subsidize it.”

“Politics is not a bad profession. If you succeed, there are many rewards; if you disgrace yourself, you can always write a book.”

“No arsenal, or no weapon in the arsenals of the world, is as formidable as the will and moral courage of free men and women.”

“If we ever forget that we're one nation under GOD, then we will be a nation gone under.”

“We must reject the idea that every time a law’s broken, society is guilty rather than the lawbreaker. It is time to restore the American precept that each individual is accountable for his actions,”

“Today we did what we had to do. They counted on America to be passive. They counted wrong.”

“We will always remember. We will always be proud. We will always be prepared, so we may always be free.”

“Liberalism has nothing more to say, nothing to add to the debate. It has spent its intellectual capital, such as it was-and it has done its deeds.”

“Thomas Jefferson once said, ‘We should never judge a president by his age, only his works.’ And ever since he told me that, I stopped worrying.”

“Let us resolve that young Americans will always find there is a city of hope in a country that is free…and let us resolve they will say of our day and our generation, we did keep the faith with our God, that we did act worthy of ourselves, that we did protect and pass on lovingly that shining city an a hill.”

“America is too great for small dreams.”

“Freedom is not something to be secured in any one moment of time. We must struggle to preserve it everyday. And freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction.”

“How do you tell a communist? Well, it’s someone who reads Marx and Lenin. And how do you tell an anti-Communist? It’s someone who understands Marx and Lenin.”

“Those doing all the criticizing had their chance. In the four years before we got to Washington they had it all. They had the whole enchilada…they virtually had a free hand and all they could think to do with that free hand was stick it in your pocket.”

“Whatever else history may say about me when I’m gone, I hope it will record that I appealed to your best hopes, not your worst fears, to your confidence rather than your doubts. My dream is that you will travel the road ahead with liberty’s lamp guiding your steps and opportunity’s arm steadying your way.”

The Drivers Permit or How I Got Pied Like Bill Gates at Penn DoT

The first time was in 1993. Time number two was just two years later in 1995. Nineteen ninety-seven marked the third occurance. Then I had a break. It didn't happen again until the next century. Still I had no problems. Another four year break brought me to 2005 A.D. Sometime between November 2005 and September 2009 I have lost touch with reality. What was routine has now become stressful. What was blase has now become challenging. The mind that used to be a steel trap has obtained more than a little rust and is in dire need of a shot or two of WD-40.

This all hit me in the face like one of those cream pies with which Bill Gates was targeted. I am the father of seven children of which six have obtained the age of sixteen. That in and of itself is not special. More special or rather more amazing is that I am still here to even come to the cream pie moment I had this weekend.

Because I have this many teens I have been priveleged to have the same amount of teen drivers. It is reasonable to think that I should have the routine down as to what is needed in order to have a newly turned sixteen teen aquire a learning permit. Sure, through the years Penn DoT has wrinkled the playing field by trying to make me responsible for counting a number of hours driven by my teen before a representative of the state certifies that the flesh of my flesh and the bone of my bone is permitted to drive on the potholed Pennsylvania hiways and byways. What Penn DoT doesn't realize is that no child of mine is getting behind the wheel of ANY vehicle that has my name printed on the owners card by their computer regardless of how many hours they may or may not have driven while my fanny is in the seat beside them. There is no magic number just a magic feeling. A feeling that only I can experience. I must say that the feeling does and will waver from time to time. One of these times is the first time they drive down the street in my car while I am left behind on my knees dialing up the person-to-God direct-call phone line. Penn DoT has also made it possible for the medical world to harvest teenage body parts from these young drivers as long as the teen says it's OK and I sign a form and swear that I am of sound mind. Chew on that one awhile. They are asking the parent who is about to turn over their $30,000 vehicle, the future of their insurance premiums and their very solvencey to a cell phone carrying, texting, music loving child if they are of sound mind. Lord have mercy! Now back to my story.

It is reasonable to think that I should have the routine down as to what is needed in order to have a newly turned sixteen teen aquire a learning permit. Micah turned sixteen on September 5th. Shortly there after he and I make the Mecca-like oblgitory journey to Penn DoT so that he can get his permit. We get there park enter the building, go to the application testing room and it is then and only then that I realize that Micah needs a doctor signiture on his application. Just like all the other times. I believe this signiture is needed only because the state may want to harvest body parts at some point in the future and with these signatures they are guaranteed a predetermined standard of quality. Well we got the checkbook (that was an automatic, dealing with the state, need a checkbook) but we ain't got no doctor approval. So home we go. Fast forward two months.

Why two months? 1) A physical 2) Band 3) Dauphin County Library System 4) Band 5) Apathy 6)Band. We finally get our act together, find a weak spot in the band schedule, i.e. the end of the season, and begin our trip all over again. I even reviewed the steps to take by a prospective applicant on page one of the PA Drivers Manual. I checked off each step we were going to follow once we left Penbrook. We were a little late, say 9:30ish but it was Saturday and we had the time. We got to the Penn DoT building. Being the good parent and the law abiding driver that I am, in route I only had to scream at two other drivers and critique their driving to my sixteen year old driver wannabee. Once in the parking lot at Penn DoT I was forced to make a decision as to whether I wanted to stick around and teach my son to drive or spend 7-12 with Bubba and the boys at the State Penn. It is amazing what one woman behind the wheel of a car trying to find the perfect parking space can do to a sane man trying to get a drivers permit for his son.

We triumphantly enter the building with no outstanding warrants for us. Being the savy, experienced parent I quickly slash through the rooms occupants and press the magic green button the spews out a number by which we will be identified for the next few minutes. I get number 75. I'm sure there is no reason for us to be seated. This should go quickly. I stepped around the partition and was transported to Ellis Island. Then and only then reality pied me again. "Ding! Now serving number 54." Fifty-four! My computer-like mind quickly deduced that there were twenty-one people in front of us. If each one took 10-15 minutes to process, Micah and I were in danger of missing Thanksgiving. Much to our benefit the A-Team was working this Saturday morning. We only had to wait about an hour. I cannot even begin to tell you aout the people with which we waited. One was a self-appointed ambassador of good will. She was constantly jumping up to explain the process to anyone that walked in and looked puzzeled. All I know about another was that when he took his wife/girl friend/daughter to the counter and gave the attendant his license as proof of identy, the attendant said in a voice loud enough to silence the room, "What are you doing here? This license is suspended!" Pied, buddy.

Number 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, we ready ourselves, "Ding! Now serving number 75." We dash to counter #6. We grandly present all of our paper work to the clerk with the ralization that we are only moments away from getting a permit. The clerk reviews our form. She tells me that I can fill out the parental permission form and I do not need to have a notary seal placed on it. She has Micah take the eye test. Then and only then does she look at us and say, "I need your birth certificate and Social Security Card." Ready, aim, fire! The splatter of the pie was every where. I feel that the same silence that covered the room like a blanket just minutes before, returned. I could feel the people saying, "What kinda idiots are they?" "Such a nice boy with a stooge for a father." "It must be their first time." Had I not been married I probably would have proposed to the clerk as she lovingly said, "Go get the things you need and come back. When you do, don't get another number, just come directly to my counter and I will put Micah on a machine right away." Don't you just love a woman who can take charge of a situation and make it right.

We dashed home. Ann had the necessary forms ready and handed them to us as were drove down the street just like the Pony Express. I don't think there was any lasting or long term brain damage done to Ann by the side mirrors on my truck. We returned to Penn DoT and went directly to the processing room. I could feel the daggers from those holding numbers 89 to 105 as we went directly to counter #6. Good to her word, my favorite Penn DoT clerk set Micah up on a machine. Seven minutes and thirty-seven seconds later Micah returned to counter #6 where I heard my favorite clerk state, "You can only take the test once a day. You may return again on Tuesday." Micah got pied. He failed. We get to do this all over again.
- Dan

My Favorite Christmas Album

This week I was able to purchase a copy of my favorite christmas album of all time. Your Heart is Where Christmas is Found. I first heard this album in the early 1990's when I attended a Truth concert at Christian Life Assembly of God in Camp Hill. In those days everything was cassette tape so that's what I bought. Over the next couple years I got other copies of the tape and gave them as gifts. Then CDs came along and as tapes were replaced I had fewer and fewer places to listen to my Truth Christmas album. Since about 2003, the only place I could go to listen to it any more was in our van. Last Christmas we replaced the van and with it went my last tape player of any significance. I had been looking for this on CD but since it is OOP, that's out of print for those of you who have never scoured the internet for something you really have to have, very good and very scarce. I could find people that would sell it to me for $150 but occasionally love does have limits. I perservered and found it last week for a bargain price which was still probably twice what it cost new.

What could be so special about this that would make someone write a blog about it. To me this album captures everything that Christmas is. There is only one other album that does that and that is John Michael Talbot's, The Birth of Jesus - A Christmas Celebration.

The first track is Celebration of Joy. This starts out with heralding trumpets announcing Joy to the World. The angelic voices of the female members of Truth transport the listener into the stable as they sing The First Noel and Angels We Have Heard on High. They bookend the piece by concluding with the trumpeting of Hark the Herald Angels Sing.

Caroler's Song tells the Christmas story from the manger to our homes. It craftly weaves familiar Christmas lyrics into the songs refrain that keeps you singing it long after the CD stops spinning.

Track three is a combination of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas and We Wish You a Merry Christmas. This is done as only
Johnny Mann or Percy Faith could do.

The title track Your Heart is Where Christmas is Found is huge. It's part, O'Henry's 'Gift of the Magi', part Peter, Paul and Mary 'Christmas Dinner' and part seasonal magic. The song tells of those less fortunate ones in life and how the community of God takes care of them at Christmas. There are so many object lessons in this song that you'll need to listen to it over and over to be truly touched by it. God will minister to you through this each time you listen to it.

Track five is a very tradition rendition of O Come All Ye Faithful. Truth conclude this traditional carol with a new verse of praise.

The Nashvill String Machine is the orchestra used throughout the album. Track six features their talents as they provide upbeat renditions of Silver Bells, a song first featured in the Bob Hope movie 'The Lemon Drop Kid', and Carol of the Bells.

The cost of the album is reclaimed when the track seven is heard. This is the most thought provoking Christmas song ever written, sung or heard. The Way He Came touches your mind, stirs your heart and refreshes your soul with the magnificance, the true wonderment, the true amazement of how God chose to reveal Himself to us. It leaves you with a sense of awe and in a state of worship.

A quick paced version of Sleigh Ride rivals that of The Boston Pops.

Truth performs an accapella medley of all-time classics O Little Town of Bethleham, Away in a Manger and Silent Night. They prove once again that the most beautiful instrument man has at his disposal is the human voice.

The album is brought to a fitting conclusion with O Come, O Come Emmanuel and Michael W. Smith's Emmanuel. The mystery of the Middle
East is captured with the use of castinets. The intro provides the feeling of riding upon the back of a camel crossing the desert. As the whole of Truth joins in on Emmanuel, breaking in singing "Rejoice" with the same enthusiasm that the angels used when they appeared to the shepherds. This track weaves a tapestry of music and lyric that leaves your heart and spirit panting for more.

And that's why Your Heart is Where Christmas is Found is my favorite Christmas album. - Dan

Watch -------- Prepare -------- Rejoice -------- Behold!

Delp Family Traditions - Advent

I know it’s a tradition because we do it every Advent season at the Delp house. As often is the case, I do not know when the tradition even began. I know where it started but I do not know when it started. I do know it did start though because we did it last year, we are planning on doing it this year and I know we will do it again next year.

What is this tradition? Advent is the season that precedes Christmas, that heralds the coming of our Savior. During this time we individually prepare ourselves, our community and our church family for the celebration of the coming of the promised Messiah, the Christ Child. What happens at our house is something special. Each evening during Advent, after the last dish is dried and the last pajama is snapped, we take a few moments to sit quietly to read scripture, God’s word, and other inspirational, thought provoking holiday readings. Reading these things help us to slow down and enjoy not just the fleeting twenty-four hours of Christmas day but the four weeks leading up to the 25th of December. However, it’s even more special than that. We do this all by candlelight. We light our Advent Wreath and then everyone holds their own candle by which to read. Our home is transformed from one in the middle of the mad dash to Christmas Eve to a warm glowing tabernacle of tranquility.

It gives us a sense of belonging and a sense of security to each year explain the meaning of the Advent wreath. To explain to young ears that as the days grow shorter and darker, the Advent Wreath grows brighter until finally at the very time of the year when days are the darkest, the Advent Wreath is at it’s brightest and the Christ Candle is lit to celebrate the Promised One.

I guess this is truly what a tradition is. We do not know when it started or why. What we do know is that if it ever ceased to be we would miss it and be all the poorer for it. May God bless our traditions and keep them close to our hearts.
- Dan

Watch -------- Prepare -------- Rejoice -------- Behold!

I got the following off my Rebecca’s Facebook postings. As I read it it was screaming at me, “Blog-me, Blog-me!” So here goes:


This past Saturday started out much like any other Saturday I have had while living at home through the school year. Doing chores, singing along to music and running errands. I was desperately looking for something to do that night since, really, what 19- year old sits around on a Saturday night?

I received a text from a girl friend of mine from H.S. who was unexpectedly home from school for fall break asking if I would like to join her at the movies. Naturally I jumped like a fish into water at the chance. She asked to go see the new comedy 'The Invention of Lying' starring Ricky Gervais (of the British Office), Jennifer Gardner and a star-studded cast including Tina Fey, Edward Norton, Jason Bateman, Patrick Stewart and even Oscar winner Philip Seymor-Hoffman. I hadn't heard much about the film and thought it sounded like a laugh out loud grand old affair.

Boy was I wrong!

If I was to ever walk out of a stupid overpriced movie that should have been it.
The whole story was a replica that MOCKED EVERY SINGLE FORM OF CHRISTIANITY!!!!

For those of you who have not seen the film the plot in a nutshell is; Everyone in the world is incapable of telling a lie. People are extremely honest and even sometimes brutally about how normal their lives are or someone else's looks. Until one day, the lead character Mark is sitting next to his mother while she is dying. His mother is laying in her hospital bed saying how scared she was to enter into an afterlife of nothingness and darkness. Mark cannot bare to see the most important woman in his life suffer, so he 'lies' to her. "You will be surrounded by people you love when you get there mum. You will see dad again and everyone has their own mansion. You will be young again, and you will dance. You always loved to dance."
The mother is comforted by this, since everyone only can tell the truth and dies at peace with a smile on her face. The Doctor and nurses in the room were also hanging on to every word that Mark had said, believing that it is all the truth. This causes an uproar. Masses of people flock outside of Mark's house begging for answers. Mark then sits down and writes ten rules about how people should live their lives. He claims that a 'man up in the sky' speaks to him. This ‘man’ told him all of these things and that he uses Mark as his messenger. The plot pretty much just goes from there proving that society is gullible enough to believe this man and everything he says.

I was appalled on so many levels at the arrogance of Hollywood filmmakers who think they have the right to blatantly tell those in society that do have faith in a greater power they are being lied to. Why? Why are we forced to be accepting of whacked out religions like Scientology and other controversial issues when they cannot tolerate our beliefs? When did Christians become the bad guys? I silently sat in the dark movie theater while people laughed and apologized to our Lord and Maker in my mind. He loves us so much that he was willing to SACRIFICE HIS ONLY CHILD so that we can share in His everlasting Light. He has giving us the gifts of wit, and humor, of writing and telling stories (if you know me at all you know how powerful I believe stories can be) and how have we repaid Him? By making a film that mocks His very existence?

I do not mean to give the impression that I am an overly zealous Catholic, when honestly I am a very mediocre Catholic. I have gone through my own phases of doubt and questioning what it all is worth. At the same time, I love my faith. There have been moments in my life where my relationship with God was the only thing that helped me to stay standing. I hate myself for spending money on a film that basically slapped me in the face for that relationship.

I guess what I am trying to say here is that I am ashamed that we as a society have reached this all time low. - Rebecca Ann Delp

Thanks Rebecca and Amen! - Dan

The Widows Story or God's Promises Revealed

The white haired widowed ran her knurled bent fingers over the number keys on her solar calculator that she received as a bonus for obtaining a long ago cut up credit card once again. Only this time she entered the numbers from the bottom of her column to the top somehow believing that if she keyed them from a different direction the total displayed by pray fully pressing the summation key the total would increase. The sigh that escaped from her inner being when she pressed that “equals” key combined with the telltale drooping chin and shoulders validated what she already knew. No matter how she added them the list of numbers said the same thing, “Projected income was not enough to cover known expenses!” for the coming year.

Her story was all too familiar. Year after year there never seemed to be enough coming in to cover all that needed to go out. Income increased by “cents”. Expenses increased by “dollars”. Medical expenses increased as high summer thunderheads, creating the same havoc in her life that the storms wreaked on the farmers crops.

Auto expenses were up. Taxes kept threatening to steal from her the very home she had spent most of her married years working to obtain. Utility bills were riding on the up escalator. Income was waning. Happiness was sinking. Hope had become a dying ember.

She pushed the well worn balance sheet and judgmental calculator across the table and asked to anyone listening, “What do I do now? It just doesn’t add up.” As she pulled out twenty-plus identical budget sheets from her ragged cardboard folder she sighed again, “I don’t know how I’ve been able to make it all these years? Each year I seem to have the same problem. Will it ever go away? Will it ever be different?”

What a miracle was witnessed that day! The folder full of yellowed budget sheets, eraser chaff and broken dreams stood as a monument to God’s faithfulness. The glowing numbers on the calculator that just minutes before seemed to condemn her to another year of struggling now shown the light of God’s promise upon the very evidence being used to dishearten and destroy.

“Can’t you see how you’ve been able to make it?” “Can’t you understand the miracle here?”, I softly spoke. The first line item on each and every one of the budget sheets was the widow’s tithe. The ten-percent. That for which God asks was always number one in her budget. None had ever been erased or altered. The tithe stood at the top of the budget as a beacon, as a steering light to all of her financial decision for each of her years. That line item was the non-negotiable part of her spending plan. God honored that in the first year, in the second year, last year and ever year in between. God is the same today as He was yesterday and will be the same tomorrow. If He is that way, so are His promises.

God tell us in Leviticus 27:30 that “all the tithe of the land, whether of the seed of the land or the fruit of the tree, is the Lord’s; it is holy unto the Lord.” He continues defining the tithe in Leviticus 27:32 where He says, “And concerning the tithe of the herd or of the flock, even of whatsoever passes under the rod, a tenth shall be holy unto the Lord.” When you are faithful to God, in this case the widow was faithful with her finances and that which the Lord sees as holy; God honors that and blesses you. Do not misinterpret what was just said. I did not say that you should give in order to get. That is not why we give. God loves a cheerful giver, (2 Corinthians 9:7) one who gives freely of whatever resources for which they have been provided, not the one who gives grudgingly or out of compulsion.

So knowingly or unknowingly the widow was being obedient to God’s wishes. Her tithe came first and was never compromised. As promised, God blessed her by providing for her needs each and every day for over twenty years. Did He prosper her? It depends on what you consider prospering. She didn’t have diamonds and gold. She will never be found in the upper stratus of society. She did meet every bill. There was always money for the necessities and mysteriously there was always enough left for the extras.

We are never to test God and His promises (Matthew 4:7) however God challenges us to put Him to the test when it comes to giving. Malachi 3:10 says that we are to bring our tithes into the storehouse and put God to the test. If we do that, He will open the windows of heaven and pour out the blessings so much so that there will not be room enough to receive all of them. Is this prosperity giving? No this is the Word of God. The widow’s situation is a tangible example of this in action in our lives today. - Dan

Why I Love Prep Football Mr. Frisco

Rod Frisco of the Patriot-News asked his readers this week to let him know why they like high school football. This is my answer to Rod Frisco:

Dear Mr. Frisco,

My earliest experience with high school football was when as a child my dad wanted to take my brother and me to see John Harris HS play. Only thing was I had to come up with fifty cents for admission. I don't recall if that was the going rate or just my contribution. I refused to hand over the quarters and to this day rue the fact that I missed that game.

Through the years I've come to realize that I missed out on more that just the game that day. I missed out on spending time away from life with my dad. Through my elementary school years and into high school most Friday nights were spent with my dad at Landis Field watching either the Rams or later on my own C.D.E. Panthers. During high school it would have been 'more cool' to hang out with my friends at those events but if I would have I couldn't have watched the game. I miss the old Central Penn League, I miss the
smell of a freshly lit cigar wafting through the bleachers and I miss the sweetness of a cup of hot chocolate in a cardboard cup. High school football was the focal point for good times and good memories for me during those years. Watch the game on Friday night and star in it over and over until the next Friday night.

Then came college and marriage and kids. I never lost the love of the game though. I listened to every game on radio that I could. I would drive home the long way just to hear the end of a game, between two teams I did not follow hoping that I'd catch an out-of-town score in which I was interested, because I knew my radio reception was better in the car than in the house.

As soon as my sons were old enough I started taking them to Friday night games. I suddenly found out what my dad already knew. A father and son had the perfect hiding place from the world when they were at a high school football game.

Three of my six sons played football at Bishop McDevitt. None beyond their sophomore season and none ever made it to Friday night or Saturday morning. It did not matter. For six wonderful years it gave me a reason to go to football on Monday nights and Wednesday afternoons in addition to the weekend. I was living large.

There was a period of twelve to fourteen years that my wife, a McDevitt grad, and I didn't miss a McDevitt game for any reason. We were at all those games as a family. All nine of us. The allure of the game, the family of McD friends and the security found in the autumn ritual drew us each weekend with the same magic that draws the geese out of Canada.

My youngest four kids did not play football but thank the Lord they played instruments. Instruments in the band which just happen to play at half time of, you guessed it, McDevitt football game. I truly have lived a blessed life.

I never put on the pads and played but many times I scored the winning touchdown on the field of my dreams. I never coached football but many times I called the down and out to Raki or pitch right to Shady. I never officiated a game but many times I felt remorse for the things I felt in my heart for those that do.

High school football is magical not in what it does but in what it allows you to do. - Dan

More Thoughts on Nate and Jen's Wedding

All through scripture God uses stories to speak to us in a way that we will understand. One of the analogies I love the most is how He explains the relationship between God and His church by using the bride and groom.

Before their marriage Nate spent time readying a place for his bride, Jen. Likewise, Jesus left this earth to go and prepare a place for His bride, the Church (John 14:2). Nate then met Jen on their wedding day at God’s altar. He came back for her. Jesus promises that He too will come back for His bride (John 14:3).

The anticipation and preparation of Nate and Jen’s marriage generated much joy and happiness for all involved. Those that were directly involved with planning the festivities were taken to and kept at such an emotional high one must experience it to fully understand the plane on which one resides during that time. Even those who were somewhat involved in the preparations and planning were pulled along into the excitement. John talks to us about this in his Revelation (19:7) when he says, “Let us be glad and rejoice and give honor to Him, for the marriage of the Lamb is come, and His wife hath made herself ready."

This brings us to the symbolism of the bride and her gown. Jen wore white as a sign of purity as she stood before God and her bridegroom. God’s bride, the church, will also be adorned in this same white symbol, “And to her was granted that she should be arrayed in fine linen, clean and white; for the fine linen is the righteousness of saints.”

As much as I was excited and inspired by the marriage I was equally excited with the anticipation of seeing and being with family and friends at the receptions held for Nate and Jen. I would be seeing friends that I have see for a long time as well as those that I am with on a regular basis. This very aspect of the relationship between Christ and the Church is highlighted in scripture when John wrote what he was told, “Blessed are they that are called unto the marriage supper of the Lamb." The word ‘Blessed’ here means happy. Then John follows this with the statement, “And he said unto me, ‘These are the true sayings of God.’” (Revelations 9:19)

The marriage supper of the Lamb will be held in Heaven, the very place that Jesus went to prepare for us. If I was excited to see and be with folks that are here in this life with me, I can only imagine what it will be like to once again greet, hug and be with those that have gone to be with Jesus before me. Let me change that statement, I can’t imagine it.

God has used and continues to use the simple things, the things that we can relate to, like a wedding, to reveal Himself to use. - Dan

Scattered Thoughts on Nate and Jen’s Wedding

As I sit looking out my window at the second day of rain, I realize how much of a blessing they received with the weather they had last weekend.

I enjoyed watching the building excitement displayed by all the people involved.

Coming home and finding the wedding party creating flowers in my kitchens was neat.

One-hundred plus cupcakes! Wow!

It was neat to watch the bonds growing between two people as they prepared a place to live and bought a vehicle.

To see Nate and Jen take charge and do it ‘their way’ was nice.

The family that gathered to help celebrate the event was exceptional. It is always a blessing to get everyone together and share our lives. We got to see some that we don’t see too often and we got to just sit and talk with those we do. Many new friends were made and new friendships have germinated.

I am glad that I got to read the Scripture from Solomon during the mass. It was scripture that I wasn’t too familiar with and this got me to look it up and spend time with it. I was also honored and blessed with sharing that duty with Don. What a thrill and blessing that was. It was nice that Nate had his father and God-father participate in his wedding.

Ann and I were able to reminisce about our own wedding held also at St. Margaret Mary Church thirty-four years ago. The memories of my own bride still fills me with joy as our love has only grown many time over through the years.

We got a picture of all our kids and their wives, ten people, all because two people fell in love.

Music at a wedding reception, from an iPod, priceless.

The look of their eyes. The look in their eyes. - Dan

Adding by Subtracting - A Different at Look at Math Fact Families

After the Christmas holiday in 2008 our fourth son Nathan and love, Jennifer, told us they were planning to become engaged to be married. They also said they did not want to wait or have a long engagement. That’s how Ann and I did it. We became engaged in June after I graduated from PSU and were married in November of the same year. Nate and Jen set a date of September 4th for their wedding.

This having kids grow up and get married stuff is advertised as making your family smaller but don't believe it. We did not lose Nate we gained Jen. We did not lose a son. We gained a daughter. It is great adding kids to your family as they are about to graduate from college. It's really great benefitting from someone else’s hard work. Previously we added Sydney and Corinne to our family. These are three of the finest young ladies for which a father and mother could hope. We've grown from 7 to 10.

So many folks have commented about us “losing another one”, or having another “leave the nest”. In that case we have. They are gone from our everyday routine. They are gone from the breakfast table. They are out of the shower line. However, they are not gone from our family. They are not gone from our hearts. They are not gone from our prayers. - Dan

The Groom’s Mother’s Dress or “Living an Off-the-Rack Life in a Tailor Made World”

Due to the many, many times that I have been able to ascertain material items well below the customarily going price and due to my penchant for sharing such escapades with my cohorts in a less that innocent way, I have become to be known as ‘Delpstein’ or ‘Delpberg’ in certain circles in which I run. This past Saturday evening I added yet another chapter to this ever growing, ever expanding legacy.

Since it was Saturday night, Rebecca was out and about with friends, many of which were having their last weekend at home before dispersing throughout the east to the out posts of higher education. Micah and Seth were both invited to spend the next to last weekend of summer at a local community swimming hole for a late summer pool party.

Five minus three equals two. Those two were Ann and yours truly. My first thought was, “The kids are out of the house for the evening let’s spend the evening … on the town.” Shame on you for what you were thinking! We dropped our charges off and hit the road. Only trouble is where do two people go by themselves when they aren’t accustomed to being alone? And I do mean alone. Since the end of November 1975 I have only been able to go to the bathroom once by myself. There was a fire drill at work during the 1990’s and instead of lining up across the street to await the building recall, I stole away into the men’s room to take advantage of ten minutes of uninterrupted silence. I usually share this most private of spaces with one or more members of my family. I have occasionally even shared it with the blushing red-faced acquaintance s of my children. We did decide to get something to eat but could not decide where to eat it. Suddenly we both realized that our vehicle was heading south on route 283. Could it think we were going to YFC. It couldn’t. We had no one with us. We were alone. Turns out the destination was preordained by a Power greater than you or me. We were headed to Chilly’s! Romantically we ordered the “Two for $20” deal from the menu (one appetizer, two entrees, one dessert). The last time we ate out alone together we got two full course meals and two movie tickets in Gimble’s restaurant for $8.00.

Being the suave debonair man about town that I am, I suggested that we not end the evening here but continue on with new found freedom. Ann suggested a shopping trip to the French retailer, J C Pe-nay’s to see if the ‘Mother of the Groom’s Dress’ that has been eluding her since January was maybe hiding there. I dutifully agreed in the same breath that I admitted that I had eaten too much. Ann agreed and said that the next time we find ourselves in this position we will split the entrée.

We enter the hunting grounds at Penny’s and immediately cut to the chase. We move from the entrance to the discount rack in the women’s department as quickly as two overfed, stuffed lovers can move. “No, no, definitely NO, too low-cut, too long, too short, not the right color.” These were the words I heard coming from my wife. With each and every utterance I know I was one step closer to going somewhere else.

And then in the matter of time that it takes the nictitating membrane of a bird’s eye to close and open, I felt the joy of victory and the agony of my feet. “This is the one!”, Ann said with, I hope, the same enthusiasm that she had as when she first laid eyes on me. That was the joy. The agony came when we turned the price tag over and discovered that it wasn’t reduced but was full price, $80.00! I think that for $80 bucks one should get two pair of interchangeable pants, one jacket, a nice top (sleeveless of course), shoes and a handbag. I was told that is a guy thing. Well, I’m still a guy. Being the loving caring dotting husband that I am, I stepped into the aisle to look for one of those self-scanner thingys. I hoped I wasn’t playing into the hands of some wicked, warped individual who enjoys wrecking people’s dates by leaving full price clothing on discount racks on Saturday nights. I hoped beyond hope that some employee missed marking this dress, the dress of my dreams, the dress of my dream boat. Red squiggly lines dancing across a barcode proceeded the audible beep that cause the screen to silently say, “SALE PRICE $19.99”. Halleluiah! Halleluiah! Halleluiah! Halleluiah! Hal-laaaa-luuuu-iah! Handel lives! All is well! I never did drugs but the rush from them cannot be any better than this. I calmly look up to see my own beautiful bride of 34 years come down the aisle. The “groom’s mother”. Wonderingly she asks, “Well?” I deadpan “$19.99.”

Expecting the type of greeting that a weary soldier would receive from his love upon returning from war. I brace myself for the run and leap into my arms. What I got was, “If that doesn’t fit, it’s your fault. You didn’t have to take me out to eat. I probably just gained 10 pounds.” Crash and burn. Hindenburg look-a- like. I am defeated. Next stop is the fitting room man-waiting alcove. Three stuffed chairs, end table, soft light from a lamp. My quit prayer time there was only disturbed by some talking head from CNN. I don’t listen as I calmly ask God to let the dress fit.

It does! Reprise! Halleluiah! Halleluiah! Halleluiah! Hal-laaaa-luuuu-iah! What a deal. We are livin’ large. All is well. How could life be better?

It can be. Today Ann is going through some papers in our bedroom. But what to her wandering eyes should appear, but a coupon that is worth $10 off any purchase at J C Penny’s. Bad news. The coupon has an expiration date of last Saturday. Good news. We bought something there then. Bad news. That was five days ago. Good news. Ann is filled with holy boldness, so, back to J C Penny’s she goes with the coupon. After three minutes and with more sweetness than Hershey creates in a year, Ann is holding about 3-yards of register tape that says her dress only cost us $9.99. Surprise, reprise! Halleluiah! Halleluiah! Halleluiah! Hal-laaaa-luuuu-iah!

After I look at all the evidence and became a believer that the “Groom’s Mother’s” dress only cost $9.99, Mr. Delpstein is told once again that he is not to take Mrs. Delpstein out to eat until after the wedding. But come September 6th, look out. Anyone know of any early autumn pool parties? - Dan

I Love to Home School

It all started innocently enough. The Boas Street Delps were sitting around the kitchen table after church on Sunday morning. I had looked at the Sports section (I say looked at because it usually takes several different sittings with the sports to really read them. On the first pass I read headlines and captions. Pass two reveals how someone else viewed an activity in which I am interested. Pass three and four gets me to the things for which I really do not care; the scores, statistics and schedules. Scores, statistics and schedules used to be much closer to the top. However, as I find myself going through the aging process my arms have become shorter and the small print is harder to see. My eyes are still good; my arms are just too short.) and moved onto the Parade Magazine.

Featured this week in the smart lady’s column was a question about if all the nation’s money was distributed equal to all the people, how much would everyone have. The magic number was $9,000. The homeschooling gene kicked in at that very moment. I read the question out loud interrupting the comics, the Best Buy ad and Section A. I explained to one and all about how stupid this really was. I explained how we need the rich and how as soon I could figure out to get each of their $9,000, that I would be wealthier than each of them and that they could work for me so that they had an income with which to survive.

Needless to say I was passionate about the subject. I grab Seth by the arm and said, “This stuff, this passion just effervesces from within me. I am like an artesian well.” I’m starting to roll. I asked my audience whether or not they knew what ‘effervesce’ means. Ann raised her hand. Seth looked at me as if I was speaking in tongues. Micah was back to the Best Buy ad. I continued on with hand motions I had learned to use years ago in Sunday school. Placing the heels of my hands together in front of my face with my fingers pointing skyward, I thrust my arms straight up spreading my now open palms outward as if I were exploding champagne exiting a bottle. Over and over I repeated this act until I had everyone’s attention. But it didn’t end there. Now I had to explain what an artesian well was. I have everyone’s attention now as the looks on their faces were the same amazed looks we have as we watch a shooting star blaze across the night sky burning brightly as it nears eternal darkness.

So I ask Seth, “What comes out of an artesian well?” He looked quizzically at me ask he realized he was being slowly sucked into this madness. Ann interjected “H2O.” So Seth said “Water.”

It was at that moment I reached to point of no return. “No!” I shouted, not water but “agua”. I am truly going to make this an interdisciplinary home school moment around the Delp family breakfast table as I have now jumped from economics, to vocabulary, to science and now to foreign languages. Micah caught the spirit noting that the mention of H2O was chemistry. I jumped on this as Hop-a-long Cassidy used to mount his horse, with both hands. “H” stands for hydrogen and “O” stands for oxygen as I revive the Village people YMCA-like antics. I then launched into a quick run through of the periodic chart of the elements. H – Hydrogen, He – Helium, Ne – Neon as I took a detour through the inert gasses. Then back to Carbon, Boron and on and on. All this chemistry stuff resurrected my all time favorite science poem:

Johnny was a chemist,
Johnny is no more,
For what he thought was H2O,
Was H2SO4.

I asked Seth, “What is H2O?” He replied, “Water!” I shouted him down with, “No! No! Agua! Agua! Use your Spanish!” I love homeschooling. It provides so many opportunities for immediate feedback. I asked Micah, “What’s H2SO4?” He said, “Sulfur something, sulfuric acid.” Close enough, soon to be struggling chemistry student.

I explained how one can ingest water with little or no harm. Swallowing sulfuric acid means you life story and next of kin will soon be printed on pages 3 and 4 of Section B. Rest in Peace you confused chemist.

I am sure there was more rapid fire insanity from the dark corners of my frustrated educators mind. Only the fog of a tired mind and the late hour stand between that madness and your knowledge of it.

As I pushed my frame back from the table, grabbed Sunday’s HARD Sudoku, I left them cheering as I announced that due to the quantity and quality of material just covered, Sunday could be counted as a school day. Only a home school child or parent can fully understand the significance of that statement.

They were still cheering and singing my praises as I walked to my bedroom. - Dan

Phillies Cap

The phone rang. “Hello.”

“Dan, go to Seth’s room and get one of his Phillies caps for Father Dan.”

“OK. I’m just getting ready to leave. I’ll be right there.”

Now besides trying to schedule classes for Rebecca, making sure that I have my camera, binoculars, backpack, etc., I am supposed to get a cap for Father Dan. No problem, I can multi-task too. I am going as fast as I can so I don’t miss the bus that is taking us to Citizens Bank Park to see the Phillies. I’ll do it right now so I don’t forget. Two steps towards Seth’s room is all the time it took to know that I was on a wasted trip. The trip was destined for failure, not because there are no Phillies hats there, it’s destined to fail because Seth has the head of a twelve year-old and Fr. Dan has the head of, well let’s just say that there is a sizeable difference between the two craniums that would share the same cap. I perform a spin move, pivoting adroitly on my right foot as my mind tries to locate my extra Phillies caps. Now there is an oxymoron, ‘extra Phillies caps’. A person can never have too many Phillies caps.

I find two with little difficulty. See what I mean, they are lying around everywhere. One is my original fitted Phillies cap that I’ve had for many years. It hasn’t been all sweated up like every other cap I own. However, the sweat band is a little yellowed. The second cap is a jewel. It is new though old. It is new to me but it commemorates the Phillies 2007 division championship. The clock is ticking so it’s gotta be one of these.

Not so surprisingly Fr. Dan picks the new looking divisional championship cap. Good choice. The cap looks good on him too. By the way, since it wasn’t fitted it could be left out in the back and made larger by adjusting the Velcro straps. And to think I was sent to get one of Seth’s caps.

The only thing mentioned in the Bible more than money is love. I think when money is mentioned it does not always apply to coins and folding paper but to our material possessions. It can mean those things that we have, those things that we hold onto and cherish. Our cars, our family photos, our homes, our Phillies caps. Years ago, I learned a life lesson from Larry Burkett of Christian Financial Concepts. In teaching about borrowing and lending, Larry taught that we should never lend money to someone unless we were willing to give it to the person to whom we were lending it. The reasoning behind this was that when you ‘lend’ you do so with the full intent of getting it back. What happens when you don’t get it back? What happens when the borrower cannot repay or return the borrowed property? The lender fells cheated. The borrower feels shame. A rift is created. This rift could be in a family, in a neighborhood or in a church. A separating such as this is not good and should be avoided.

We make it to Philadelphia, get into the stadium, find our seats and prepare to watch the ball game. “Have you seen Fr. Dan?” Why would my wife be asking me that question? What happened? What do I do? What did one of my kids do?

So I calmly reply, “What happened now?” Ann begins to laugh as she says. “He got your hat autographed!” My first thought, which until this time has been under wraps inside my skull, was “That’s great. Now I’ll have an autographed cap like Seth does.” The reality of that thought lasted about as long as a drop of water on a hot skillet. I knew that the cap was no longer mine. I was at peace with that thought instantly. I knew the joy Seth felt when Jamie Moyer signed his cap. We still look at it. I knew the joy I felt when I gleaned autographs from my boyhood idols. I felt the same exhilaration that Fr. Dan experienced when he had my cap, his cap, autographed by Greg Luzinski.

He returned to my seat and sheepishly recounted the story in detail as to how he ran into his baseball hero and had but one item onto which #19 could easily affix his autograph. His cap. Did I want it back? After several offers to return the cap with the autograph and after hearing the same refusal and the same “No I gave it to you, now it’s yours” answer, he began to get the feel for ownership. He also got the same life lesson I have had. Never lend something that you cannot afford to give. In one simple act two people were filled with joy. Fr. Dan, with his autographed cap that I overheard him showing to everyone and me, filled with the joy of knowing that I was able to provide an opportunity for unbridled happiness to spring forth in someone.

Fr. Dan was also able to get a full Sunday’s homily from the experience. God was able to use something I had learned years before to touch not only two guys who love the Phillies but an entire parish community. – Dan

Matthew 5:42

Greetings! And now a little maintenance ...

"What is a BLOG?" BLOG (Noun) is an abbreviated form of the term 'weB LOG'. This was used because the letter combination d-i-a-r-y had already been used for another word. The definition of BLOG is "a type of web site, usually maintained by an individual with regular entries or commentary, descriptions of events, graphics, pictures or video. Entries are usually displayed in reverse chronological order. BLOG (Verb) is also the act of creating the web site, i.e. "I'm going to BLOG now."

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I have also added "Random thoughts from Dan's mind." These will be things that I'm am thinking about at the time that I post my blog.

If you think that you will discourage me by not reading my blog, or by reading it and not commenting on it, think again! I'm doing this for me. I want to write. This is going to force me to do it. You are the beneficiary of this opus or tome, depending on your view point. Read it now while it's free. Once I get published in book form I will gladly sign you high priced First Edition copy at Borders. - Dan

Hershey Park Happy, NOT!

So, I went. As I look back now it was really a moment of weakness. It was a moment when I followed my heart instead of listening to my mind. That in and of itself isn’t always bad but in this case it was.

I should follow my heart most times when it comes to family stuff. Should I stay home and watch M*A*S*H reruns or go to the band concert where they have to introduce the songs so that the audience can recognize what’s being played. Should I go to visit relatives or stay home and clean, mow, paint or do what ever job I’ve been avoiding for the past twenty years.

The calendar years 2009 is trying to squeeze all the haze, heat and humidity of an entire summer into the last half of August. It is always during this time of year when I agree to go to Hershey Park. Reasons for this are; as a home school family we go before Labor Day but after the local families are back in school, the free passes for admission and parking have been received from the Patriot-News and crowds seem to thin. I also have a rule that I go to Hershey Park for a cheaply as possible if not for free. Paying full price for Hershey Park tickets is like paying for someone to give you West Nile virus or Swine flu. Just doesn’t seem right to me.

The planets aligned, the numbers came up and yesterday seemed like the day for us to go. Nate and Jen were able to go with us. Seth had a friend who was able to go with us. I happened to have the day off. I should have known this was wrong due to my rules violations but I blindly, in the name of harmony, said that this may be the best time for us to go. What rules violations you ask? Well I paid for three of the tickets. Not full price but I still used money that I earned to purchase these tickets. Yesterday did not fall into the time slot out lined above.

As the moment to go came closer and closer I became claustrophobic in the situation. I knew I did not want to go but I felt that I should be there with my family on their special day. Then my ‘out’ arrived. I had an appointment with the orthopedic doctor at 1 o’clock. The pressure is off. I don’t have to go. Ann who is not only my wife but is also my social director discovered that three weeks earlier I agreed to have my long standing 1 o’clock appointment with Dr. Cordis scheduled at 9 a.m. on August 20th. See what I mean about the planets aligning.

I changed tactics and instead of trying to avoid the Hershey Park happy day, I decided to cut my losses and aim for something in between. I’ll go but I’ll go late. By going late I can also leave early since I will have my own vehicle there. The price of this tactic is the ten dollars I will have to pay in order to park. Cheap, I just won’t buy anything to eat in the park.

I leave for the doctors at 8:45. Get out of the doctors at 9:30. The doctor refunds my copay so now my total expenditure go the day goes the red to the black. Twenty dollar copay minus ten dollar parking fee equals ten dollars in my pocket. See what I mean about the planets aligning. From the doctors I go straight home so I can get on my way. Not! I drive slowly past Lowes checking out the reduced plants. I go to the credit union (lobby). I go to Mickey D’s for a senior coffee and a McMuffin. I go to Weis, eat my sandwich in the parking lot and after shopping, check out through the lane with the longest line of customers. I go back to the credit union (drive through) to cash a check I forgot the first time. I stop at the bank. Then and only then do I go home. I decide that since I’m home alone I’ll try and finish fixing the upstairs commode. Easier than expected I finish what I was working on. Darn! Ann calls and I promise that as soon as I eat something for lunch I leave to join the festivities.

By 1:30 I have parted with a Hamilton in the Giants Center parking lot, ridden the tram to the main gate and had my camera bag searched by a Hershey Park happy guards. The heaviness is upon me. I feel how I imagine I would feel if I was sitting in the principal’s office or at the police station. I am just somewhere that I do not want to be. Then it rains. Scratch that. Then it pours. Clears up and pours again. You may think that this is bad however it was during this respite that I had my second most enjoyable moment. I was trapped for about half an hour in an arcade next to a giant claw machine. I was entertained by (excuse me for a moment while I try to come up for a word for those people who not only visit amusement parks but also drop hundreds of dollars while there on arcade games; fools come to mind, you know the adage “A fool and his money are soon parted”; I don’t think ‘parkers’ is apropos since I remember from my youth the connotation of that word, so I think I’ll use) Hershey Park happy people who were trying to win oversized blue, pink and purple stuffed bears at $2 a pop. My third most enjoyable moment came during the second downpour when Nate, Jen, Seth, Micah and Joel were caught in the open during the rain and at my suggestion fixed a broken umbrella from a vacant condiment stand and used it to shield themselves from nature’s fury. That was great!

What was my most enjoyable moment? Nothing, and I mean nothing, can match the shear exhilaration, the thrill, the rush I receive from the ride on the tram that goes from the Tram Circle to Tram stop #2. Excuse me while I catch my breath just remembering the feeling I had as I squeezed into the tram and deposited my backside on the seat that was taking me home and away from Hershey Park! From the time I announced I was heading for home while standing at the Wave Runner until I arrived at Tram Circle I felt as if I was being pulled by a team of wild horses. I wanted to break into an all out run. Not wanting to draw undo attention to myself I merely strolled briskly toward the exit only stopping twice once to listen to the Rhythm Chocolate Workers and once to refill my popcorn container.

In retrospect, I believe today’s activities validate once again what I have learned throughout the years. Go to the band concert. Visit the relatives. Stay away from Hershey Park.

Kayaking on the Susquehanna or How 34 Years of Wedded Bliss Went Down the River

Zeke finally got to me. During a moment of weakness while butterflies were landing on our heads and dogs were splashing in the creek, Zeke got me to agree to take Micah and Seth kayaking on the Susquehanna River this afternoon. Then in a moment of unparalleled weakness, a weakness not displayed since linguine was used as a backbone replacement, I not only agreed to taking Ann along, I agreed to get my ex-friends canoe too.

Now here are the problems with the canoe. Remember all the spiders in the first Indiana Jones movie. You don’t? Where’ve you been? Well, I found out where old movie spiders retire. Under canoes that linguine-spined-wannabe kayakers agree to use. Next problem, I drive the testosterone fueled Chevy Silverado1500 work truck with the full eight foot bed. Since it had been maybe ten years or more since I last borrowed the canoe I had forgotten that Detroit does not manufacture a vehicle that has anything less than 18-wheels to transport a 12-foot canoe. So I figured with enough rope, tie-downs and bubblegum I can surely get this canoe from Penbrook to the river. My goodness if nature can get the rain that falls and the snow that melts from my house to the river then by golly I certainly can get a canoe there. Why I even have a Chevy Silverado, like a Rock! After 40-minutes of escalating stress and 137,000 ties and reties, the four of us squeeze into the cab and are ready to go get Zeke and throw his kayaks into the now much smaller bed of the Silverado.

Mission accomplished and on to the river. We decide to ‘put in’ along Front Street between the Burg and Dauphin. We do this with very little fanfare. This is Seth’s first time on the river so he gets the quick 5-minute instruction on using a kayak, drowning while truly making it look like an accident and the signing of the proper last will and testament. I am shoehorned into my kayak know full well that I either must lose weight or die there in order to ever get out again. Ann and Micah get into the demon canoe, which I later found out was and is used to transport the damned across the river Styx. Off we go.

Seth takes to the kayak and the river like a fish to water, sorry. Zeke and I motor along like we know what we are doing and Ann and Micah meander aimlessly back and forth across the channels of the Susquehanna. The river has worked its magical spell and the edge has been taken off my afternoon. I begin to feel sorry for Ann and Micah. They look like they are working themselves to death just trying to go straight. Ann complained about her behind being sore and asked me several times why I didn’t bring a cushion for her. Stupid canoe! After about ninety minutes of guilt and leg cramps, I offered to switch and ride the canoe for a while. Micah thought this was great. Seth was so overjoyed that he was not mentioned in the switch that he dumped his kayak. I never thought a kid could role a kayak and not get his face or hair wet. Seth did. Micah said, “Mom and Dad could be in the canoe together. It would be like a date.” This soon to be sixteen year old gets this from his parents who brag about when they go to the grocery store together, attend a doctor’s appointment together or go to church together that they are going on a date since no kids are around.

Since Seth was already out of his canoe, Zeke thought it would be great for the boys to do a little river swimming. While they were swimming, I got out of my kayak with the same grace that a bull elephant with sore knees would have exiting a sunken bath tub. I learned this style late last year when I had to get out of the hot tube in the honeymoon suite at a Hampton Inn in Johnstown while the jets were on full force. That’ll be a blog story for another time. I then got into the canoe while Ann got into my kayak. This water stuff is really getting easy. The only problem is that as I sit in the rear of the canoe only about half of its in water. I look as if I’m going full power doing a canoe wheelie down the river while standing still. Nobody said anything. They didn’t have to. I could read their faces from within the bowels of the demon canoe.

As any loving, caring wife would do, Ann graciously returned to the front end of the canoe to be with me for the rest of the trip. Boy did she screw up! We had about a mile of river to navigate to get to the take out spot. She and I managed to travel just shot of thirteen mile to get there. I passed a dozen homes along the shore, all of the same build, all of the same color until I realized that we were paddling but going in circles. I mentioned in passing conversation that I thought that the manner in which she was paddling was causing us to go round and round. I mentioned that I now understood why she and Micah were having trouble coming down the river. I got the same reaction that a husband would get if he mentioned that his wife’s favorite dress must have shrunk in the dryer because last summer it seemed to be much looser around the waist. “Micah and I might have been having trouble but at least we weren’t going IN CIRCLES!” Thirty-four years of marriage, seven children, job struggles, car wrecks, driving lessons all that and now this marriage is actually going down the river. Zeke paddles three-quarters of a mile upstream to see if we were OK. He thought maybe we found something interesting in the river since we kept circling. Go soak your head Zeke.

God answers prayers. Somehow we got our canoe headed downriver and with little effort we made it to the take out spot. Praise the Lord. Now all we have to do is load up go home and call the marriage counselor. When I get home I graciously accept the fourth position in the shower line by volunteering to go get some extras for supper. Ann said that I could use her gift card, which she gave to me.

I go to the store, get my groceries and checkout. Only as I go to pay with the gift card it registers as being empty. That means it has a zero balance. Above the robotic voice saying, “Please select a payment method now”, I can hear a far off familiar laugh coming from within my shower. Justice served!

Going Batty

Last night Seth and I were sittin' round doing what every red blooded American male should be doing on a hot, humid, sweaty, mid-August night, watching the first pre-season FOOTBALL game of 2009. Sometime during the third quarter (which by the way means something different in August than what it does during the last three months of the calendar year. It's named the 3rd Quarter in August games because that's when the 3rd string players who are earning about $.75 a game get to strap it on and strut their stuff. In October, November and December it means you have less than 30 minutes of playing time to get it together or you only have to hang on for a little bit more. You are now being returned to your regular Blog...) I decided to get it going and announce to my audience, "I'm taking a shower." Several minutes later I rise like the morning fog out of a Blue Ridge Valley and shuffle off to my bedroom to prepare for the cleansing event. Upon entering the bedroom I am immediately snared by the power of my PC, my window to the cyber-world beyond. It sits there singing its Siren song, begging me to "Logon and check Facebook." Pinball machines sang the same song to me when I was in college. They even learned my name and would send it to me across the airwaves with their gentle hardly audible, "tic, tic, tic,tic".

I gave in and sat down. As my fingers were performing their dance across the keyboard conveying user name and password to the keepers of Facebook, I hear Seth moving in the living room. Having left him laying on the couch I knew that only one of two things had happened. He either decide he was going to try and beat me to the bathroom or it was time for him to retrieve nourishment from the kitchen.

Much to my soon to be amazement it was neither. What I heard was, "Where'd this bat come from?" That's not an unusual statement to hear at our house for the simple reason that for 12-months, 52-weeks a year Seth walks around carrying, swinging, or cleaning his baseball bat. The bat can be wood, metal or plastic. Seth will walk into the living room, strikes a pose with his bat and quiz us by saying, "Who stands like this?" At that point we can only hope that our answer is correct because if it isn't he continues with these charades until we get one correct. It is also customary to look before sitting on any of our furniture because one never knows when you may unexpectedly sit on a bat. That could be quite an experience.

Anyhow, Seth walks into my room with this 'Canary-eatin' smile and calmly says, "There's a big bat in the living room." Now Seth is smiling because he already knows that there is no way on God's Earth that I am going to believe him. Several years ago during the summer Seth and a neighbor boy came running out of the basement where they were watching TV saying there was a bat flying around down there. I looked for an hour and never found one. I searched the next day, nothing. To this day, years later, I still search for bat bones tucked away in some small seldom visited corner or crevasse of the basement.

In order to appease the child I cut the duct tape from my head that was holding me to the monitor of my computer and went to the living room. Clement Moore probably says it best when he said, "When what to my wondering eyes should appear...but a big brown bat! This guy was huge. He had close to a nine-foot wing span. His teeth were dripping with blood. He was singing a song only a misdirected fax machine could love. He obviously was drawn to the lights of our house thinking it was some kind of airport or landing strip.

Seth looked to me to get us out of this situation. We both thought, "Where's mom?" Not that we needed the help, we just knew she wasn't going to believe us (please reread two paragraphs back). I quickly assessed the situation and had learned from watching the mid-August football game that I had to defense this guy. Contain, contain, contain. Just like handling a scrambling quarterback, only this time it was an aerial show.

There are three doorways in our living room. One leads to the kitchen but I felt we were OK there as both our side door and basement doors were open thus blocking the living room exit by appearing to be a solid wall to a radar guided mammal. I stood between the bat and the exit to the rest of the living spaces. My concern was that this uninvited nighttime guest would want the 50-cent tour of the house and I'd lose any advantage I now had in securing his eventual capture and release. Seth's job was to go to the front door which exited back to nature and Batland, and hold it open. As I tried to herd our wayward wondering friend towards the door the strangest thought went through my mind. Here I am darting back and forth across the living room, waving a couch pillow above my head, telling Seth to keep the door open, and offering encouraging words to a deaf mammal that's squeaking at me and dripping blood. All of our windows are open, the lights are on and I am sure a crowd is gathering curbside to watch this guy finally loosing his mind.

The bat finally succumbed. He landed on the wall above the front door. I swear I heard heavy breathing. His, mine or Seth's, I don't know for sure at this time but at that time I thought it was his. I shooshed him off the wall with a Kohl's ad and he dropped to the floor. Seth somehow now appeared behind me. Not sure how he got there but he was in the right place at the right time. I mentioned to anyone listening that I need to get something with which to capture him. Seth returned post haste with his net, butterfly or fish didn't really matter at that time it was a net with a long handle. With a little resistance from Mr. Bat he was mine! Only now what do I do. He's trapped under a net on my living room floor. I needed to slide something under the net in order to secure the trap. Seth got a piece of stiff cardboard which I slid under our captive who was under the net. I carefully, oh so carefully, picked up the snare and asked Seth to open the front door so I could release the bat back to whence he came.

As I stepped across the threshold and out onto the porch my mind registered, for that moment at least, a somewhat insignificant event, the sound of a closing tight of our front door. Moving to the edge of our front porch I released the bat. He was shilouetted against the glow the cell phones made from the crowd that had gathered and was now blocking traffic on our street. One thing that is difficult to ascertain about flying objects is being able to tell in which direction they are moving when in a straight line of your vision. Are they going away from you or are they coming right at you. This was the paradox in which I now found myself. The recently released bat seemed to be moving away from me but the Doppler affect of his high pitched song said otherwise. When I realized that he was aiming directly for my face the 'fight or flight' instinct kicked into full gear. As I turned to go back into the house to get away my mind dug up from its short-term memory a certain sound of a certain front door be firmly secured only moment earlier. Duck!

I saw the bat circle and resume the eating of night bugs. I'm sure when he got back to the bat cave or where ever bats return to, he'll have a heck of a story to tell about what all he had to go through just too get the Eagle's score.

Ann walked in and said, "What's going on here while I was away?"

I Know He Knows

One thing I have discovered through out the years is that God will teach you His ways, He will show you His heart. He will bring you to your knees if you allow Him. If you allow Him is the catch phrase. He will not force Himself on you. You must seek His will. You must desire His company. You must want His communication with you. This is not unlike the very relations you have with your parents, your children, your spouse, and your friends.

I try to view my relationship with the Great I Am as a father to son, child to parent relationship. He has met me at that exact spot many, many times through the years.

Recently someone near and dear to me decided that they no longer need the benefit of my counsel or my permission to do something that I knew was not in their best interest. In any case I was flippantly told that I was not needed because they had grown beyond what I could do for them and they were mature enough to make their own decisions.

This hurt me. This hurt deeply. It hurt because it was a rejection. This hurt because I was no longer needed. This hurt because I was confronted with the realization that I no longer had the influence in their life that I previously held.

As the events of the day unfolded things did not go as they were planned. I was asked for the very help, wisdom and counsel earlier rejected. My reaction was anger. I was angry and hurt more deeply than before because now I felt as if I was being used. “Do it your way and come running to me when things aren’t going as planned.” Then when I found out that the counsel of others was being sought at the same time to solve the dilemma, it was too much.

It was at that point, at the time the lions were release into the den, at the time the oven door was slammed shut and the locking bar was slid into place, that God the Father made His presence known in the situation.

He explained to me that now ‘I’ fully understand how ‘He’ feels at times with me when I tell Him through what I think, say, and do, that I don’t need Him. “I can do it myself. I have grown past you.” He let me know how ‘He’ feels when ‘I’ go to the world for answers and not Him. He showed me that the very heartache I suffered is also suffered by Him. The same rejection I felt, I have also inflicted upon Him. I was reminded that He sent His son here to take on the cloak of humanity in order to fully experience everything His creations would experience. I knew He knew.

Gently but firmly he dealt with me. He did not pull any punches as He plowed forward and dealt with the way I reacted to the cry for help from the one who hurt me. “Is that how you want Me to act when you call out My name?”

Whoa! Hoooold on there, Auggie Boy! This is sobering stuff.

I stood before my Judge guilty, convicted of the very crime I was livid over. How many times had I done the same to my Father? Time after time I reject His ways. Time after time I run back to Him when I am in over my head. Driven to my knees in shame and remorse, He started the healing process in me. He forgave me. He has started once again the lessons I need to understand and apply in my life. I am forgiven. I need to forgive.

For the LORD God is a sun and shield: the LORD will give grace and glory: no good thing will he withhold from them that walk uprightly. O LORD of hosts, blessed is the man that trusteth in thee.” Psalm 84:11-12

Waiting

Samuel spent the day with Ann and Seth today. When I came home from work I walked into our bedroom to find Ann and Seth doing school work at the computer and Samuel rolling around on the bed being a boy. I stopped in the doorway and in my best surprise look and voice I said to Samuel, “Where did you come from?” Without hesitation he replied, “My daddy brought me.” This was a very simple, very innocent exchange of pleasantries between an adult and a child.

After leaving to vote in the primary election, I returned home to dig our garden. I got the tiller out, put on my gloves and began to turn the earth inside out. As I was working on this, Seth and Sam came out into the yard with badminton racquets and shuttlecocks. I was able to watch the boys hit the shuttlecocks back and forth, forth and back as I circled the gardens ever shrinking perimeter with the tiller. About half way through the job at hand I stopped to rest. Ann walked by with a fist full of cuttings for me to dig into the earth. For some reason I was prompted to ask Ann, “Does Samuel ever ask for his mom or dad?” Ann replied, “He speaks of them but doesn’t ask for them.”

As I restarted the tiller to resume my digging the Holy Spirit spoke to me. He left me know that the same innocent confidence that Samuel displays in knowing that his father is coming back for him is the same confidence that I should have, all should have, in knowing that our Father is coming back. Did you catch that? God used Samuel, his innocence and his relationship to his father as a breathtaking object lesson of faith. A faith so simple but yet purposely profound.

This same principle can be found in the book Endurance, a story about the British Antarctic explorer, Sir Ernest Shackleton. In 1912, Shackleton left England on the HMS Endurance to try and be the first explorer to reach the South Pole. After a series of unfortunate events, Shackleton was forced to leave the majority of his exploration party trapped on the Antarctic continent with no ship, no sled dogs, little hope and the promise that he would return for them. He did return and saved his faithfully waiting yet still functioning party of explorers.

Our Father brought us here where we are today. We are to wait patiently and confidently for His return, knowing full-well that His promise is true. He presented this object lesson to me through Samuel. What a blessing! I share it with you so that you may share it with others. I can understand the emptiness and the helplessness you must feel during this season of your life, being separated from those your love and the things you love to do but please be assured that God is using this time and those who are near and dear to you to further His love.

*~*

So I'm waiting for you Jesus, cause I know that those who wait,

They will mount with wings like eagles, they will run and not grow faint,

They will walk and not grow weary, their strength will be renewed,

Coming from You.

So I wait, I'm waiting for you, waiting for you.

So come back soon, I'm waiting for you. - Rich Mullins

Dan

Some names have changed to protect identities.

Greetings - Dawn of time for my blog

Greetings and welcome to my blog.

In the past week I have gone from Facebook to Twitter to where you are right now. I have often thought of having a blog and after listening to Kim Komando explain the simplisity of blogging I decided to give it a try. I will publish things that happen to me, things that I find funny, things that I feel strongly about and things that I am led to share with others. Please feel free to comment on what I write. We may not always agree on things but I pledge that, that will not be a problem.

I already have a few items lined up to publish. Now I just need the time to compose them in a manner in which I will be satisfied.

Dan