Shock and Sadness

Massacres are nothing new.  Humans have gotten really good at killing each other…and doing so in large numbers for no particular reason.  The 17th century Italian painter, Valerio Castello, entitled his painting “The Massacre of the Innocents”; an apt title for such a gruesome depiction of horror. 

And so it was another sad footnote in our American history when last Friday a young man felt the need to obliterate and/or forever change the lives of thousands of people in an Aurora, CO movie theater. The days that have followed have been filled with speculation, anger, sadness and a hundred other emotions too expansive to put on paper. 

I’m always particularly saddened to learn about the details of each individual affected by tragic situations.  The mother who was severally injured while her 6-year old daughter was assassinated in cold blood.  The young man who was to celebrate both his birthday and first wedding anniversary only two days later….he didn’t make it.  The Air Force reservist who was called to active duty during time of war…only to be gunned down by some lunatic who never served a day of patriotic military duty in his life. 

There are many many more stories like these, and of those who were injured…and of those who were left to grieve it all. 

As I reflected on these stories it suddenly struck me that although I am saddened by the event, I’m not nearly as shocked as I was, say, when Timothy McVey murdered those folks in Oklahoma City, OK in 1995.  I did not find this nearly as unbelievable as the day I heard about the murder of Israeli Olympians in Munich, Germany in 1972.  What really struck me was my lack of incredulity.  It embarrasses me.  I am ashamed.

The world is a chaotic place that seems to run from one tragic event to the next.  The age of media saturation has created calluses on our hearts and minds that insulate us from stopping in our tracks and prevent us from being immobilized out of fear and repulsion. 

I also began to reflect on our reaction to other horrific world events.  They happen every day, you know.  As appalling as  the event in Colorado was (and is), there is actually some good fortune in that only 12 have died when there was so much potential for more.  And…we now know the names, faces, and stories of each one of them in some minor way. 

And yet…take the current Syrian conflict. In the town of Houla at the end of May, according to the UN, a massacre took place which claimed the lives of 108 village residents including 49 children and 34 women, most of them murdered with hatchets, knives and guns.  With few exceptions, we do not know their names, what they did for a living, what kind of lives they led…not even what they looked like.  108 lives taken….and yet we know little or nothing of them.  Horrific?  Yes.  Shocked to the point of creating a searing memory in my mind?  Not so much.  It embarrasses me.  I am ashamed. 

I have no answer for world conflict or individual madness in this world short of the return of Christ.  If I did, I’d run for President and make empty promises that will never come to fruition simply because there is evil in this world.  It makes no logical sense.  But I hope and pray we will always feel shock and sadness as these things happen.  I wish to grieve.  And I want to know their names, even if I can’t really pronounce them well.

Papa Chief

My Daily Commute

Why do we spend so much of our time doing the things we do?  It seems like life is a constant series of movements designed to accomplish one goal or another. 

I spend about 1 ½ hours each day of my life, Monday through Friday, sitting in a vehicle driving either to or from my place of employment.  People call this a “commute”.  That averages 7.5-hours per week, 390-hours per year.  If I commuted 24-hours per day each day without stopping, it would take 16.25 days to fulfill each year’s commute.  That’s a lot of rubber on the road. 

During my commute, I do a variety of things.  Most of the time I listen to music.  Someone smarter than me invented a cordless telephone that also contains my preferred musical collection.  Someone else invented wireless connectivity, better known as Bluetooth technology.  Yet another person figured out a way to put that technology into my radio, and….voilà….I can now listen to my music without the irritancy of commercial interruption.  Very cool! 

I’ve also been using my very cool phone on the commute to listen to my audio Bible.  I think I’ve been able to run through 25% of scripture in about 30-days of commuting.  Amazing stuff, for sure. 

I’ve tried learning Spanish by listening to lessons during my commute, but I find that trying to enunciate español while conjugating verbs to be a bit too much for my mind to concentrate on with the lousy drivers that surround me along the way.

On occasion….I sit in silence; in thought.  I oftentimes talk to God.  I tell Him about my day, or pray for my family.  I will recognize the beauty of His creation around me.  The mountains.  The sunrise or sunset. The coyote’s running along the road.  The suicidal doves that dive bomb my car or wait until the last millisecond to try escaping from my quickly approaching mass of aluminum and steel.  It’s all good.

Sometimes I talk to my Dad.  He has been gone for far too long.  And I can still see his smiling face as he wraps his arms around me and says, “Welcome home, son”. 

Commuting….make the most of yours.

Papa Chief

Flying High

Here I sit in row 18A with approximately 200 of my new best friends, riding in an aluminum tube high above the plains of Texas, or Oklahoma enroute to one of my least favorite regions of the continental United States...the east coast. Thankfully its a smooth ride so far, otherwise my writing would look like a bag full of Scrabble letters.

I'm also thankful to have a young slender man (emphasis on slender) in the center seat next to me...with a job, pleasant personality, a sense of humor, and nice teeth. Hmmm, perhaps I'll slip my card to him and tell him all about my eligible daughters. What's the worst that could happen?  I've already experienced the worst.

I love my job. I get to work with some great people and the highlight for me are the trips to our sites around the country to spend time with the managers and employees. But I'm fully aware of the joy they must have when the "boss" comes to town, so I try to not over stay my welcome. The Air Force has taught me to be somewhat of a people person even though I'm really more comfortable alone and in a quiet place. So...I love my job.

I hate my job. I get to work with some of the most lame people on the planet. Travel can be fun, but it gets old sometimes. Airport security is a necessary evil that just plain sucks. I got yelled at by the TSA guy this morning because I thought he motioned me forward...and I did so. He spent the next 30-seconds explaining that his motion was to stop me, not to step forward. He may be a great guy, but today he was lame too. Oh, and I have a co-worker who is arrogant and self-centered. You know the type. The one who makes up for their own inadequecy by putting forth an air of superiority with everyone else. So...I hate my job.

In spite of the pros and cons of my job, I am very grateful. I am paid a reasonable salary, my bills are not in arrears, my family is provided for, and I like to think a do a good job at what I do. My mantra for work is found in Colossians 3:23, "Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as if working for the Lord, not for men." I think that's a pretty cool business plan.

All of us have things we like or dislike about our jobs. But the Bible teaches us that in ALL things we are to be thankful. And so I am.

We are also taught to be content in whatever situation we find ourselves. And so I am.

And therefore I sit, at 35,000 feet or so in the air, riding in this giant cigar tube...away from my wife, my cats, my house, my truck, my guitar, my church, my friends, my family, my life as I know it....but I am closer to God and I am happy.  I am blessed.

May the wings in your own life take you to places you've only dreamed about in your heart.

Papa Chief

Politics and Religion

Starting off with a bang...(must be the fireworks for the 4th still going off in my head).  There's nothing more volatile than politics and religion.  Mix them together and it's like pouring gasoline over a stack of dynamite and lighting a match.  Like many of my friends and family, I am a Facebook'er (FB).  I started using FB as a means to keep in contact with family and see photos of the grandkids since we live so far from each other.  It has evolved into a social experiment in how much dribble you can filter through your brain without losing the essence of REAL contact with REAL people; pressing the flesh, so to speak.  There is good and bad to anything one takes part in, including FB. 

With the election of the President of the United States looming very near, FB has become the modern day office watering hole...the front porch of America...the fire around which sits the elders and the youth who listen and complain about the "old ways" of the Chiefs. 

I'll admit....I'm somewhat of a conservative thinker; set in my ways and reminiscing of how things "used" to be. I recently mentioned that our church's Vacation Bible School was "different" on FB; how I missed seeing the flag procession and reciting of the pledge at the beginning of each service (it's a Baptist thing....just go with it).  I was almost immediately bombarded with a younger crowd on FB who were "offended" by my remarks telling me how effective the new way of doing things led people to know Christ, how much the kids loved it, etc. Wow!  Back up....it was just a memory that I particularly enjoyed as a kid.  And yeah...our way was effective as well.

When it comes to politics, I'm also somewhat conservative. Having spent 30-years in the US Air Force, I'm a stanch patriot who believes in the ideals of the American way of life, it's democratic form of republic that give people the freedom to live and express themselves as they wish...to a certain degree.  I'm proud to be an American and will apologize to no one for the red, white and blue that flows through my veins. 

When it comes to religion, I grew up in a Southern Baptist church.  Daddy was the preacher, and I married a Southern Baptist preacher's daughter.  It's what I know...what I understand...where my comfort zone is located.  Southern Baptists are also historically racist...originating from the smoldering heap of slavery in the south.  It's a fact, and we have to embrace the truth. This year, Southern Baptists have elected their first black American president; a first in their history that our forefathers would likely have found disgusting. A lot of grave rolling is going on.  I'm proud that we've evolved this far.

In both cases I use the term "somewhat" conservative.  There are things that Baptists (particularly, Southern Baptists) believe that I do not believe are Biblical <insert shock here>.  There are things about our way of government that I think could be better or are outdated <insert awe here>.  In both cases I believe there is room for discussion. 

Toleration and discussion for a minority viewpoint is admirable.  Political correctness (PC) for the sake of trying not to offend is pointless and violates our idea of democratic rule.  Although I value the opinions of others...whether in politics or religion...I am not PC. But I do believe that we need to learn to discuss without being violent.  We need to learn to listen without carrying a chip on our shoulders too.  Everyones opinion is valid and valued....but not everyone is right or wrong.  We do not live in a black and white society where everything is orderly and set in stone.  And sometimes...we need to be mature enough to agree to disagree and go about our business without holding a grudge. 

The "I'm right" and "You're wrong" mentality is what we see our so-called leaders playing out in Washington D.C.  It reminds me of kids in the playground fighting over the proper length of chain on a swing set. We need peacemakers more than we need sword swallowers.  I want to elect someone who represents the majority view point without dismissing the minority one.  I want someone who understands the word "compromise".  I want someone who will value MY opinion...even if it's conservative.  I want someone to value YOUR opinion...even if it's wrong. <that's what we call...humor>

Our country is much like a marriage where communication is the key to success.  Unless the different factions of our country begin to function like a solid relationship of give and take, we will find ourselves in divorce court.  In some countries they call it "nation building".  Others call it "civil war".  We've tried nation building around the world....and civil war on our own soil.  Neither one has been a fun experience; downright painful is the word. 

Politics and religion....a volatile mix for sure.


Papa Chief

Core Crow - It Begins

I am a Crow...a Crow to the core. The core of anything represents the very essence of what it is and where it originated; hence the name of my blog which starts today. I have lots of thoughts running through my brain that have accumulated over the past 52-years and 363-days. I am a prolific thinker and as I am now well past the half-century mark of life I thought this would be a good time to put my thoughts down for someone, somewhere to take a look at down the road. Maybe my children or grandchildren...or beyond...will think it kind of cool to see what I had to say. Perhaps they'll think it all rubbish and give it a toss in the virtual round can. In any event, this will become an outlet for my thoughts that I hope to share with anyone, everyone, and no one.

What I do NOT wish this to become is a diary or journal of my daily life. Lord knows there's enough drama in everyones day-to-day existence and you don't need to hear mine along the way. But as my writing evolves, I hope to share my quirky insight and, perhaps, slightly brash ideas and bold, sometimes irreverent thoughts.

So...here we go. This is a work in progress and perhaps it will go nowhere.

Ciao! - Papa Chief