A Historical Christmas

"You know that tuberculosis was a huge killer before 1900," I said to the student who was working with me.

"I've heard that," he said vaguely.

"Some pretty famous people died of it," I said.

"Really...?"

"People like Robert Louis Stevenson," I said.

"Never heard of him," he returned.

"How about the Bronte sisters?"

"I don't think I know who they are either.  A musical group?"  He hazarded a guess.

"How about Frederic Chopin?"

"He sounds foreign," the student said.  "I don't know a whole lot about pop culture."

I gave up.  Clearly he wasn't going to recognize any historical figures that were born pre-1970.

Part of the problem with history is that there is so much of it.  Everything from Washington Crossing the Delaware, to the Journeys of Marco Polo, to the Crimean War falls within its purview.  The bigger problem is that for many people, historical things feel very remote and unrelated to their lives today.

I guess I think about it now, because it is hard for people to understand how the birth, life and death of a man two thousand years ago should make any difference in their lives today. Something from so long ago in the past feels meaningless to the modern American.

Christmas is about remembering just such a life.

They would be right, if Jesus birth was a one time event.  They would be right if Jesus' life was so long past that it was shrouded in the mists of time, but there is something different here, because yes, Jesus was a historical figure, but He is more than that.

Jesus lives today, not as a baby in a manger, but as a Redeemer, Savior, and a Friend.  It's not that Jesus lived, it is that He lives.

I spoke to Him just this morning and I guess that makes all of the difference in the world to make Him the most important person to know.

Even for people uninterested in history.

A Sense of Wonder

A scholar and a farmer went for a walk together in the woods one day.  As they went along the trail, the scholar was constantly pointing at plants and rock formations and identifying them by their Latin names.  Little wildlife showed itself because of his noisiness, but the few birds they did see, he named quickly.

All the while, the farmer was silent, even as he walked along the same path.  He too saw the same plants and trees, but rather than thinking of their genus and species, he soaked in their beauty.

At the end of the walk, the scholar said to the farmer, "You've been awfully quiet.  I hope you've enjoyed our walk as much as I have."

The farmer thought for a little and then said, "You know a lot about all of the things we saw -- more than I'll ever know.  You still need to learn one thing -- never let your focus on details steal your sense of wonder."

I think about this story at this time of year, because it sometimes feels like Christmas is about lists -- lists of people to buy gifts for, lists of people to visit, lists of special candy or cookies to make -- and in all of the busyness, there is little time to breathe, let alone stop and remember what the whole point of the season even is.

I know I'm not very good at that -- I'm more the sort of person who holds his breath all the way through the month of December.  I only begin to respire again when New Year's Day is safely in the rearview mirror.  It certainly isn't the most enjoyable time of year for me, but I usually struggle through it...

One of the beautiful things about having children is being able to see things through their eyes.  The wonder of God becoming and infant and the amazing details of the plan that culminated in the birth of Jesus are awfully well known to me, but their eyes still light up as we read and talk about them.

Just for a minute or two, I would become like a child and feel that sense of wonder again.

There are many things that need to be done, but none is as important as to stop and breathe and just for a moment feel the wonder of it all.

The Castle

The Castle.

It certainly was imposing.  I remember seeing it, standing six stories tall on a ridge overlooking the city of Gatlinburg.  Just looking at it from the tram up to Ober Gatlinburg, you had to be impressed by its size.

I read a little about it later and found at that it had been in the 1960s by a man named John Ruppel, who had a somewhat checkered history.  It had cost over 12 million dollars to build, had 32,000 square feet of living space, an amazing view, and had numerous secret passages and hidden rooms in it.

The thing is that when we talk about "The Castle," we must use the past tense, because in the recent forest fires that besieged Gatlinburg, this home was one of those that burned.

There is a sense in which all of the great works of humans pass, given enough time.  Of the seven wonders of the ancient world, only one -- the Great Pyramid at Giza -- still exists.  Over time, structures deteriorate, burn, and just generally decay.

The Bible tells that eventually everything will burn, "But the day of the Lord will come like a thief. The heavens will disappear with a roar; the elements will be destroyed by fire, and the earth and everything done in it will be laid bare." (II Peter 3:10). 

It all sounds a little nihilistic.  What's the point of trying to leave a legacy, when whatever we do will eventually decay and burn?

Sad to say, too many people focus on the wrong things.  The important things aren't the material things we might accumulate, the wealth we might leave to our families, or even things we build with our hands.  The important things are the ways in which we touch the lives around us and the ways in which we spread joy into the lives of others.

It is the sort of thing that may go unnoticed.  Certainly it will never stand out like a six story castle built in the Smoky Mountains, but it will last a lot longer.

Our heavenly Father sees these little things and will remember, long after all of this has passed away.

Colds

I hate colds.

It really isn't the coughing, sneezing, aching head, or even the generally worn down feelings that you get with one.  It isn't even the fact that I can finish off a Kleenex box in an hour or two (by the way, by the end of the first box, Kleenexes feel like sand paper on your nose, even if they are "ultra soft").  Anyway, the biggest problem with colds is just that you can't do anything to treat them.

(I have one right now, if you haven't guessed)...

Antibiotics don't work, that's certain.  You are guaranteed about seven days of cough with Keflex, maybe about a week of symptoms without.  I always recommend my patients to drink more H2O, but personally, the biggest thing I have found is that when you drink a gallon of water a day, you spend more time in the bathroom.  Maybe you don't notice your cough as much when you constantly need to urinate.  Vitamin C never did much for me either.

But people never were bothered to much by colds in the old day, did they?  They were more worried about scary things like Small Pox and Plague and Typhoid Fever, to be bothered by a little runny nose and cough.

I suppose it all comes back to the need to be in control.  It's the twenty-first century and certainly we should be able to do something to treat the common cold.

I suppose that's why there are folks who come to see me on the second day of symptoms.  "I just want to catch it early," they tell me. 

That's all well and good, but having caught it early, I am afraid that they will keep until their handy immune system kicks in to get things under control.

We all want to be in control of every situation, but whether it is the weather, forest fires, or even common colds, so often we come to the realization that we aren't in control and in fact, we never really were.

That's really OK, because there are bigger hands than ours that are taking care of things and God has given each one of us an immune system that can deal with all sorts of germs.

Even the viruses that cause the common cold.

Giving Thanks

It was Thanksgiving Day and quite the spread stood before us.  There were sweet potatoes and salad, turkey and corn, yeast rolls and two different kinds of jelly. Around the table, four hungry children sat eyeing it all like ravenous wolves.

"Let's pray," I said and launched into a pre-Thanksgiving meal prayer.

About halfway through my prayer, a little voice came from the high chair to my right, "Amen?" it said in a plaintive tone.  Victoria, at least, was sure that I was getting long winded and she was ready to eat.

I know that there are many people who do not bow their heads and pray before meals, but I always do. 

When I was a boy, I heard people say that they were "blessing the food" and I believed that the longer the prayer, the more the food needed blessing.  I have had a few meals which a ten minute prayer would scarcely have been long enough to carry me through them.

But I don't pray before I eat to protect myself from intestinal parasites, or even a case of indigestion.

I am not asking for a blessing on myself or the people around me, not even a blessing on the hands of those who prepared the meal, rather I am giving thanks for a meal that I don't really deserve.

It is easy for me to fall into the trap of thinking that because I work hard, that I have earned the food that is set before me and the other blessings that may come my way through the day.  Nothing could be farther from the truth.

My family and I have been blessed by God and there are many in this world who have much less than we do.  I don't know why God has blessed us so richly, but the least I can do is to bow my head and three times a day say "Thank You," to the One who never stops giving.

Whether I am sitting down to a three course meal or a liverwurst sandwich, I would pray.

Truly, the beginning of a grateful heart is simply remembering to say "Thank You."

A Thanksgiving Parable

It came to pass that one day, I did meet a woman with whom I am acquainted.

And I said to her, "What doest thou here?"  For, it was her Day Off.

"I'm just getting ready to brush my teeth," she said.  "For, my way will pass through the office of my dentist today."

"Verily, they will For Sure be glad you brushed your teeth prior to going there," I said.

"I must confess," she told me.  "That I thought by the time I got to my age, I would not have to visit the dentist any more."

"I suppose, you could request them to pull all of your teeth when you go today,"  I told her.  "That certainly would save Much Time in the future."

The woman was greatly silent for a period of time and then she said, "I think I would rather keep going to the Dentist."

As I reflected upon it, it struck me that there are many who would rather complain about their Dentist than thank the Lord who gave them teeth that still may chew a Hamburger Patty from their favorite Burger Joint.  For truly it is far easier to complain than to give thanks.

To judge from Facebook and Twitter, people are often Upset and don't have a whole lot to be grateful for.

But for me, I am glad that I have Teeth to Smile, a Voice to Praise my God, and a Heart to Love Him.

Above all, I have a desire to push away complaining and Be Thankful.

A Twenty-Five Hour Day

Last Sunday we got an extra hour.

A twenty-five hour day happens once a year.  Of course, in the spring we'll give that hour back and have twenty-three hour day in recompense.

It wasn't always this way in the Hoosier State.  When I moved to Indiana in the year 2000, it was still on "God's time," never changing clocks backwards or forwards -- just on Eastern Standard Time throughout the year.

Being from Ohio, it took awhile for me to get used to the concepts of "Fast Time" and "Slow Time."  Figuring out whether Louisville was on the same time as we were was pretty crucial to making sure that my patients arrived on time for their appointments (Louisville did spring forward and fall back).

Now, we have daylight savings and change like most of the rest of the country twice a year.

I have often wished for an extra hour in my day.  It just seems as though when paper work is piling up, or there are more patients to be seen than I can fit into my schedule, that an extra hour would be pretty handy.  At the same time, I have to ask myself what I did with the extra hour I was given last weekend.

I think that maybe I got a little more sleep than usual that night, so that is part of the hour.  I also took at least seven and a half minutes setting all of our clocks forward, so there is a little more of the hour.  But for the rest of it, I am not totally clear on what I did with it.  I know it is gone now, but I certainly didn't do anything particularly important or memorable with it.

The Book of Ephesians in the Bible tells us to "make the best use of the time, because the days are evil."  That is to say, we are to make sure that the things we do and accomplish with our time are worth the time we devote to them. 

This is a passage speaking about intentionality and purpose.  I will use up the time allotted to me each day, whether or not the things I do with it are worthwhile.  The only way I will use my time in a worthwhile way is if I plan to do so.

What would I do with a twenty-five hour day?  Exactly the same things I do with the twenty-four hour day I am given currently -- just a little more of them.

That's a scary thought -- if I am not intentional with how I am using my time right now.

Behold, I Am Coming Soon

The clock is ticking down to one of the most difficult presidential election decisions that I can remember.  Two of the most disliked people in America have somehow made it to the point where one of them will be elected President of the United States.

Many Americans feel like they are choosing between getting cancer or, heart disease.  They aren't enjoying the choice.

The good news, in a time of anxiety like this, is that God is still in control and He always has been.  That does not mean that bad things can't happen -- they have in the past and they will in the future.  What it does mean is that neither Donald Trump, or Hilary Clinton can alter the goal that God has for this earth.

As I think about it, maybe we are headed for the last days spoken of in Revelation.  I certainly don't understand most of that book, except to see that it is filled for the most part with images of death, despair, and judgment.

It would be easy to panic when thinking about a future like that.

There is one other message that is repeated three times in the final chapter of Revelation:  "Behold, I am coming soon."

It is a promise to those who love Jesus that one day He will return in the clouds.  And not death, or life, or angels, or things present, or things to come will be able to keep His people from His side in that day.

I have a feeling that dark days are ahead, but there is one promise I hold to through it all, "Behold, I am coming soon."

A Plague of Frogs

"Elliot, what would you think if there were frogs everywhere?"  My wife Elaine asked him.  She was telling him about the plagues in Egypt before Pharaoh let the Israelites leave.

"I would love it!"  Elliot said.

"Well, what if the frogs were in your bedroom?"  Elaine asked, hoping, I guess, to convey the seriousness of this plague.

Elliot looked at her as though she was a little silly.   "Mom," he said.  "I love frogs.  I would love to have some in my bedroom."

At this point, Elaine gave up and moved on to something else.  It amused me, though, because although Elliot does love frogs, I think that having them all over the place would get old, even for him.  There is certainly a limit to the number of frogs he would enjoy having in his bedroom.

Of course, he is only five and can be forgiven if he doesn't always think through the consequences of his choices, but there are a lot of people much older than he is who choose paths -- knowing where they  lead -- and just believe that they will 'deal' with the consequences when they get there.

I have never heard of anyone choosing a path that lead to a plague of frogs, but there are plenty of other, far worse things that can result from decisions we might make. 

The problem, unfortunately, is not that we don't know what the consequences of our actions are, it is just that we think we can deal with them when they come.  The end of the path is clear and doesn't look great, but we believe that we will have enough fun on the way to make the consequences worthwhile.

In the end, the fun on the way is seldom as great as we think it will be and the reward at the end is far worse than we imagined.

The road most traveled often ends in disaster.

Worse even than a plague of frogs.

Okra

It came to pass that one day recently I sallied forth from my home and surveyed the remains of my garden.

In the midst of summer plenty, our garden was awash with fresh vegetables.  Green beans, zucchinis, and cucumbers seemed to pour from it in plenteous amounts.  Now, however, there were only some okra plants and a huge pumpkin vine that reached its arms, Trump-like, all over one corner of the garden.

That was all.

In the dusky light, I could see the okra plants, standing tall and straight as soldiers in two rows.  On the plants, I could still see the flowers blooming, even though Autumn was squeezing the rest of the garden into submission.

Okra is one of those plants, sent by God to make poor gardeners feel as though they have a little talent.  Even in years when the rest of the garden is a total disaster, it is not unusual to have a bumper crop of the green (often slimy) vegetable.

I can't say that okra is my favorite vegetable.  It probably isn't even in the top five.  I just have too many memories of okra salad on the third day (but I will say no more on that subject).  Yet, in the spring when I sit down to plan out the garden, I always get a package of okra seeds.  I am not planting it for myself,  I plant it because my wife and children like it and they are pleased while it is bearing.

I suppose that is one of the things I have learned in life.  I suppose when I was younger, I thought that it was important to do things that made me happy, but now I know that it is even more enjoyable to do things that make others happy.

The world doesn't revolve around me and  my happiness.  One of the things that gives me greatest satisfaction is to know that I have done something that pleased someone else -- without the  expectation of anything in return.

The Little Red Hen may have been happy while selfishly eating her bread by herself, but I am happier planting okra and sharing it with the people I love -- even if I prefer other vegetables.

Hurricane Matthew

Hurricane Matthew is bearing down on the east cost of the United States.  It is currently a Category 3 hurricane, which means it isn't the biggest hurricane ever, or likely to cause the kind of devastation that Hurricane Andrew or Katrina did in the past, but it is still really big and is bringing high winds and lots of rain. 

When Matthew comes to call, Floridians get just a little nervous...

Of course, we can follow the constant predictions about the exact path Matthew will take and where he will head back out into the Atlantic.  I suppose that those predictions make us feel a little more in control of the situation.  At the same time, there is a big difference between predicting a storm's path and actually controlling a hurricane.

Thirteen years ago, my wife and I were out driving on a day when we probably should have been at home in our basement.  I remember the slate gray, almost yellowish sky as we stopped at a traffic light and then suddenly, the wind began to whip up.

It must have been a tiny tornado that touched down at that intersection, because our vehicle was rocking back and forth with the wind.  Then, something hit our rear window and it exploded inward, exposing our ears to the roar of the wind.  The transformer on the pole beside us blew, sending a shower of sparks out in all directions.

Elaine cried out in that moment, "God, save us!"  Just that fast, the wind was gone, leaving behind two very shaken people to drive (a very noisy) trip back to Paoli.

We work very hard to give ourselves control over the events in life we face.  I am afraid that quite often that control is merely an illusion.  In our hearts, we know that things are way too big for our control.  Certainly the weather is beyond our control, but there are a lot of bigger and more serious things than that in life that we don't control either.

What then?

Two thousand years ago, a small group of men were rowing out on the Sea of Galilee.  It was a time before Doppler radar and GPS devices, a time long before out board motors and in the middle of their journey, a storm blew up.

Waves rocked the tiny vessel and the winds tugged at it.  In the boat, the men struggled on in a losing battle, realizing that at any moment their ship would capsize and they would all die.

It was in this moment that they turned to a man who was asleep in the middle of the ship.  His name was Jesus.  "Teacher,"  they shouted at him.  "Do you not care that we are perishing?"

I imagine that they hoped that he would help row, or bail water -- do any of the normal futile things humans in a tiny boat do when they are in danger.  He did none of those things.

Instead, in that moment, Jesus woke up and calmed the sea and rebuked the storm.

And all was still.

It is far better to know the One who is in control of every situation than to try to fool ourselves that we are in control.  It is even more sad that we usually wait for that crazy moment right before everything falls apart in chaos to cry out, "Jesus, save me!"

Even then, He is faithful and will do just that.

Far better to trust Him from the very beginning.

Valuable

"...and you," our guide said, pointing at me.  "Will ride Frenchie."

I couldn't tell if this was a good thing or not.  Certainly, it wasn't a great thing from Frenchie's standpoint -- I was considerably heavier than the others (all children) who were riding horses with me.

For the first little while, Frenchie and I got on splendidly.  She walked and I sat and everything was just great.  I talked to her a little bit, but she didn't respond much, maybe because she only spoke French, or maybe because she only spoke horse.

The only issues were that it was really hot and flies were hovering around incessantly.

I pulled out my cell phone and took a couple of photos of my children, who were also riding horses.  Then, I stowed my phone in my shirt pocket.

Suddenly, Frenchie jumped and then crow hopped to the side.  She kicked her legs again, unsettling me a little bit.  "Whoa," I told her.  This definitely was my first rodeo.

"Just swat the flies off her rump,"  the guide told me.  Once I did, Frenchie settled down and became a placed horse again.

It was about ten minutes later that I reached for my phone to take another couple of photos, only to discover that it was gone.  I told our guide that I thought it had fallen out when Frenchie had done her little bucking bit.

"Well, you can walk out with the next trail ride, if you want to," she told me.

I did.

So, after we got back, I found myself walking beside a group of horses, following the same trail we had followed an hour earlier.  A little way up the trail I discovered my phone in the grass and all was well.

I realize that I would have walked a lot farther than that to get my phone.  It is valuable to me.  In my line of work, I need to be reachable.  I remember my parents looking for pay phones and using calling cards, but that just wouldn't work these days for a number of reasons (including lack of pay phones).  Even though I don't like it some times, my cell phone is quite valuable to me.

Jesus told a story about a woman who lost a silver coin and searched her house from top to bottom until she found it.  When she did, she was so happy she threw a party.

In the same way, there is rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents.  Because in the end, we are valuable to God.  More valuable than a lost sheep is to a shepherd or a lost silver coin is to a poor Judean woman.

More valuable even than a cell phone is to a 15 year old girl.

That's how important you and I are to God.

First!

"Vince, I got ready before you did!"  Elliot crowed, as he pulled his pajama shirt over his head.

My sons both want to be first in a lot of situations and getting ready for bed was no exception.

Vince looked at Elliot.  "But Elliot," he said.  "The Bible says that the first shall be last and the last first.  So, I'm really first getting ready for bed."

Vince had found the Biblical loop hole whereby no one really knows what place they finished in.  Those who finished in last place actually won the race.  It is a little confusing when you try to work it out.

Of course, the point of Jesus' statement was not that people should try to finish last or, go as slow as possible in order to eventually have their position elevated.  The point is that Christians aren't to be focused on fame, or place in line, rather they need to focus on serving each other.

Jesus wanted His disciples to give up their place for each other because they loved each other and not for any other reason.

His disciples did not understand this while He was alive, but they eventually learned this concept and it was one of the things that made the early church different.  For, the people within the church served each other without thought of reward and position.  Those who had leadership had the expectation that they would serve the most.

I am afraid that this ideal gets laid aside too often today.  Even in the church, people push themselves forward into positions of importance, rather than stooping down to serve their brothers and sisters.

Jesus said "By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another."

Humility and love in service of a loving, humble Savior should be our goal today and every day. 

The Royal Road to Learning

"You must have a really nice camera!"  The lady told me as she looked at the photo I had taken.

I don't suppose she was meaning to denigrate my skills as a photographer and truth be told, I do have a nice camera.  But I also have spent quite a bit of time learning about what makes a good photo and how to get the best images possible from the camera I am using.

I can't imagine telling a carpenter who had just finished a house, "Wow, you must have an amazing hammer!" or, "What kind of power drill do you use?"  Nor could I fathom complementing my wife on a meal she had just cooked by saying "Wow that kitchen aid mixer really came through for you tonight!"

In the end, all of these things are just tools.  Usually if my tools aren't working for me, the problem isn't the tool I am using, it is with me and my ability to get the most out of them.

Anything worth doing is worth doing well.

Doing something well takes time.  It takes time both to learn to do the skill and time to put it into practice after you have learned it.  Things that don't take much time to learn -- say the art of playing a kazoo -- also aren't particularly enjoyable to practice in the long run.

I am afraid in the modern age, we want technology to do stuff for us -- we can skip the learning process because our tools will be smart tools.  The idea of sitting down with a book and learning photography or, spending the time necessary to learn hand quilting or, anything else that takes a lot of time is beyond us, but it is very much worth it.

"There is no royal road to learning," Euclid is reputed to have told King Ptolemy.  He was right then and he is right today. 

It is far better to sit down and learn how to use the tools you have, then to save up to buy those someone else has in the hope that maybe those tools will impart some measure of skill with them.

If I find enjoyment in doing something, I will find a lot more in learning to do it better.

For me, the pleasure of photography is not in interacting with a "really nice camera," it is in spending time in God's creation and seeing the beauty He created.  Only then can I capture a little bit of that beauty with my lens.

Changing the World

I stood on our front porch last evening about dusk and heard the locusts singing and in the distance, the sound of thunder echoed across the hills.  I looked up at the high sky and saw the dark clouds moving in.  I felt very small and not all that important in a Universe that is big beyond my conception.

There is a picture book that I really enjoy reading to our children called "The Little Red Lighthouse and the Great Gray Bridge."  It tells the story of a (self-aware) lighthouse that protects ships and boats from rocks on the edge of the Hudson River, until a large bridge is built above it and a light is placed on top of the bridge.

At this point, the lighthouse feels very small and unimportant in comparison to the bridge and is certain that now that bridge is protecting the boats from the rocks, it no longer serves a purpose.  Fortunately, at the end of the book, the lighthouse realizes that it can continue protecting boats from the shoals, even though it also knows itself to be very small in the scheme of things.

I suppose most of us humans (except those running for president) have felt much in common with this lighthouse.  There are plenty of times that we feel small and wonder if we are serving a purpose at all.

I suppose I think of this more as I get older, because I know that I am not enough.  I cannot stamp out world hunger, or stop the spread of COVID, or prevent droughts in the horn of Africa or, even get rid of squash bugs in my garden.  I am just a little doctor in a small town and those sorts of problems are beyond my ability to solve.

And that's OK, because God hasn't called me to fix the big issues of this world.

I cannot change the world, but I can touch the lives of a few individuals every day.  I can take the time to listen to a woman who has recently lost her husband and hear her grief.  I can make the effort to notice the man who has lost two pounds since his last visit and encourage him to carry on.  I can spend a few heart beats and pray with a woman for whom medicine seemingly has no answers.

It isn't much and it isn't a "great" work, but it is important.

God hasn't called most of us to change the world, He has just called us to give ourselves to those in need around us one breath at a time.

If enough people do it, it just might change the world.

For sure, it will change someone's world.

Joy and Bike Riding

"Dad, do you know what today reminds me of?"  Vince wailed to me.

"No," I said.  "What day?"

"It reminds me of Judgement Day!" Vince said.

We were working on riding a bicycle without training wheels and it was a mighty struggle.  At least part of the problem was that Vince didn't want to learn how to ride his bicycle on just two wheels.  While Anna tends to be our dramatic child, Vince was pulling out all of the stops at that moment.

I'm not totally sure why we think it is a big deal to learn to ride a bicycle.  I have no idea how many (if any) of the great men and women in history learned to ride a bicycle, but it certainly seems like a good idea to teach our children to do it.

Flash forward a few weeks and Vince and I were outside with the same bicycle and the same struggles.  Something was different this time.  Vince was ready to learn.

"Dad," he told me in an excited voice.  "I have thought of a strategy that will help me ride well.  I will pedal and steer."

That certainly sounded like a good plan and it worked.  Within a few tries, he was riding a considerable distance on his own and he hasn't looked back since.

So often the difference between figuring something out and disaster is our attitude when approaching it.  The days where I go in excited and up beat are so much better than those days where I Eeyore my way through them -- regardless of the actual events that I meet.

The Bible says that the "Joy of the Lord is your strength."  I certainly have found this true.  There is nothing like a little joy to get one through a long Monday or, a busy Thursday for that matter.

So, stock up on joy.  It will make the hardest task easier and help you survive the longest days with a smile on your face.

Or maybe learn to ride a unicycle...

The future is just more pleasant with joy in our hearts.

A Perfect Reflection

As the sun crept closer to the horizon, I crouched behind my camera and looked across the lake.  In the predawn light, the trees were mirrored in the glassy surface of the lake.  A bird began to sing and I framed the image, trying to capture a little bit of the symmetry and beauty of the scene before me.

I have always thought that part of what makes photographs of lakes beautiful is the reflections we see there.  But, what is it that makes for a good reflection?

For one thing, the lake needs to be free of debris.  A stagnant lake that is covered with algae or, even lily pads will reflect very little. 

Then too, a lake must be perfectly still in order to be a good mirror.  Even a little breeze rippling the surface or the wake of a passing boat will be enough to break up the reflections in a lake's surface.

This world would tell us that we need to be ourselves -- our own best selves.  As nice as this thought is, it is far better to be a reflection of Jesus Christ.

In putting that into action, we must clear all of the "debris" that would obstruct such a reflection.  Things like anger, pride, and envy must go if we are to mirror Jesus' perfection.

Then, we must be at peace.  In tranquility it is far easier to express His presence, while a life in turmoil will be far removed from showing Christ and who He is.

This is our goal -- to reflect the love, compassion, and humility that Christ showed to us.  While we might be interesting to look at in our own right, it is when we reflect Jesus that the beauty will shine forth.

I pray that someday people will look at me and no longer see me at all, but rather a mirror, a reflection of my Savior -- pure and peaceful like the surface of a lake.

Eggplants and Encouragement

"We brought you something today," Linda told me.

Linda was a patient of mine, who while she was eighty years old, still stayed very active working in her garden.  Her daughter, who was sitting next to her, handed me a bag.

"Oh, wow!"  I exclaimed, opening it.  "They're beautiful!"  And beautiful they were.  For, they had brought me three eggplants.  Whether or not you like to eat them, eggplants are a very pretty vegetable (although I just read that technically they are actually a fruit).

"Thank you so much,"  I told them both.

It is not unusual that patients of mine bring me in produce from their gardens or, candy and cookies at Christmas time.  One family even gave me some (very snazzy) Christmas socks one year.

I often wonder what folks in big cities bring their family doctors?  I can't imagine, but I have a feeling that it doesn't happen very often in urban areas.

The thing is that while I don't really need these things, I know how much work goes into getting vegetables to the point of harvest.  Even more than that, it is a gesture that tells me that my patients appreciate me and the things I do.

I am afraid that this idea is lost for many people.  Even though a person is "just doing their job," they still need an encouraging word now and then -- something to let them know that they have been noticed and appreciated.

It isn't easy to do this.  It's a whole lot easier to find fault than to remember to compliment a job well done.  At the same time, we have no idea what a difference it will make to someone else's day.

It is just like a couple of eggplants given to a doctor on a busy afternoon.  It is something small, but somehow the doctor smiled a lot more after that.

Reach out. 

Notice someone.

Encourage them.

They will be blessed and you will be too.

The Olympic Games

The Olympic Games are here!

It is a time when over 10,000 athletes will descend on Rio de Janeiro, Brazil to compete in a variety of events ranging from golf to basketball, from swimming to badminton.

Of course I was disappointed to find out that my last chance at the Olympics -- an event called The Elliptical -- will not be featured in the 2016 Summer Games.  It still will be pretty exciting to watch men and women push themselves to their limits.

Each of these athletes has put in thousands of hours of practice to train for their events.  Only one of those competitors will emerge with a gold medal and only three will win any medal at all.

It begs the question "What's the point?"  Why put in hours of grueling effort, only to finish sixteenth or twentieth in the world?

Something worth doing is worth doing, even if we can't be at the best at it.

It is easy to think about this in serving Christ and in showing love to the world around us, but there are plenty of other skills that are worth developing, even if we can't be number one in the world at them or, even stand out in them.

I think about this with regard to photography.  I don't take the greatest photos ever and certainly, there are plenty of photographers who have more knowledge and skill than I do.  When I set up my tripod and watch the sun rise above the still surface of the lake, I am aware that this isn't the first or even the hundredth image that has been made like this.

Still, I set my alarm early and struggle out to take photos at dawn and the Olympic athletes perform their sports as well as they can.  Because it isn't really important what others have done before, it is important what we can do today and can continue to do tomorrow.

Those skills, those memories we make today we will carry with us long past the time when most people have forgotten who won the long jump at the Rio Olympics.  That's plenty of reason to invest time in them today.  Regardless of where we finish, we can enjoy the journey to get there.

A Flat Tire

"We're going to have to stop," I said.

"What's going on?"  My wife, Elaine, asked me.

"We've got a tire that's going flat," I said.  We were driving into the town of Loogootee, coming home from church, and I was looking everywhere for a sign that said "Air."  At the least, maybe we could make it home if I filled it up with air.  I didn't see anything and finally pulled into a gas station that didn't have an air compressor to change the tire.

It was ninety-two degrees in the shade with high humidity.  As I stepped out of the van in my white shirt and dress slacks, I could feel the perspiration beading up on my forehead.

I looked at the tire.  It was really flat.  Oh, well...

I tugged the jack out of the back of the van and began to jack it up.  I moved over to try to loosen the lug nuts and found that the wrench wouldn't fit over the lug nut's head.  I pushed on it and kicked, to no avail.

A man walked out of the convenience store.  "Can I help?"  He asked me.

"I can't get the lug nuts off, so I can get my spare tire on,"  I said.

The man fiddled with the wrench and then nodded.  "Won't fit,"  he grunted.  "Let me see what I've got."

He returned in a minute or two with his own wrench.  It was a tight fit, but he managed to get it over the nuts and began to loosen them.

"You sure picked a warm day to have a flat tire," he said.

In five or six minutes, we had the tire changed.  "Thank you so much,"  I said.  "You were just what we needed.  God bless you!"

The man's eyes crinkled just a little as he started to walk away.  "I hope the rest of your day goes a little better," he said and jumped in his 15 year old F150 and drove away.

I am glad for this episode.  I am not glad because I enjoy having flat tires on ninety-two degree days.  I am glad because it gives me hope.

It is easy to believe that in this dark world, all kindness has left humanity.  It is easy to believe that most people walk through life focused on themselves (and their phones), unable to see or care about the needs of others.

Maybe that is true in some places, but there are still men who will stop and help a stranger change a tire on his mini van when it is really, really hot out.

The man who helped me would probably laugh and say it wasn't a big deal.  It is just the sort of thing that anyone would do.

He might call it "no big deal," but I call it "love."

And that's exactly what this world needs.

Glimpsing the Future

A few weeks ago, at our supper meal, our children began talking about weddings and wedding receptions.  More accurately, my daughter Anna, was sharing her views on them.

"At my wedding reception, we'll (I guess that's the groom and her) have Pomeranian Rice,"  she told us.

"What's Pomeranian Rice?"  Elaine asked.

"Oh, you know, it's the rice that's sort of orange colored and you can eat it by itself,"  Anna said, in a statement that brought absolutely no clarity to the situation from my perspective.

"You mean Rice Pilaf?"  Elaine asked.

"Yes, that,"  Anna said.  "And then for a main dish, we'll have rice and beans.  To finish it all off, we'll have Rice Pudding!"

"Will that be enough?"  I asked.  Certainly this sounded like a relatively cheap reception meal, but I had a feeling the guests might end up grabbing a bite elsewhere afterwards.

"Well, we'll have cake too, and ice cream and punch,"  Anna said, with an air of finality.

"I don't want punch at my reception,"  Vince said.  "Everyone will drink water.  I don't like punch."  Vince doesn't like sweet drinks at all.

"But what if your bride wants punch?"  Anna asked him.

"She won't,"  Vince said flatly, as though that settled it.

The conversation moved on into other, equally odd directions, but I was left with an amusing glimpse of my children's vision of the future.  This image told me more about Anna's like of rice and Vince's dislike of punch, currently, than it did about anything that will really happen down the road.

Many people believe that they know what the future holds -- at least in some limited way.  They have plans for themselves and their families.  They have hopes and expectations based on these plans.

What I have discovered is that none of us knows the future.  We have our hopes and dreams, but the future remains an uncertain mess.

The best thing is to give all of these hopes and dreams to God.  For He has His own plans for us -- plans for good and not for ill.  Though those plans might lead us through hard times, in the end, they will far exceed anything we could imagine in scope and in the wonder they will bring to our lives.

Questions and Answers

"Dad, what is the biggest number?"  My son Elliot, who's five, is full of questions these days, many of them surrounding numbers.

"There really isn't one," I answered.  "Whatever number you think of, there is one more than it."

"Oh," he said.  He was silent for a little bit, taken aback, I suppose that there wasn't any easy answer to this fairly simple question.  A few seconds later, he asked me, "What's one hundred and two plus eight, Dad?"

This was a little easier.  "One hundred and ten,"  I replied.

The book of Ecclesiastes tells us that "Of making many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness to the flesh." 

There is no end to the asking of questions, particularly not for a five year old.  Even after completing four years of college, four years of medical school, three years of residency, and doing continuing medical education every year, I still have many questions (although few of them involve numbers).

There is a time in each of our lives when we want all of the questions answered, particularly when it comes to our purpose, God, and the meaning of life.  It seems that few of these questions are easy to answer.  At the same time, I know from my own life that satisfaction did not come from having answers to all of my questions, it came from meeting someone.

People say that Jesus is "the answer" and perhaps that is true, but I know Him and still don't know a whole lot in the scheme of things.  Certainly I don't know what the biggest number is, or why all sorts of bad things happen in this world, but I know Jesus and I trust Him and I suppose that is enough.

So often I have come to Jesus like my five year old son, asking questions and desiring answers.  The whole time He just wants me to put my small hand in His great hand and walk with Him.

For, I do not know anyone who has found joy from having all of their questions answered, but I know plenty of people who have found joy from meeting my Savior.

An Ark Encounter

On Wednesday, my family and I went to the Ark Encounter near Williamstown, Kentucky.  It is a full scale replica of the ark -- a pretty amazing structure to behold and to tour.  Unfortunately, our 15 month old daughter did not enjoy it as much as the rest of us and began to wail, cutting short our journey in the confines of the ark.

Going through the ark, I realize that one of the big points that Ken Ham, the visionary behind this construction wants to make is that the story of Noah and the flood is within the realm of possibility.  With an ark this size, Noah could have housed and fed the animals necessary to survive a world-wide flood.

I understand Ken Ham's point and to a certain extent I agree.  Certainly, I do believe that God created the earth and that there was a world-wide flood that destroyed everything except what was inside the ark.  That probably makes me pretty weird in an environment today that demands explanations for anything unusual.

I just don't need naturalistic explanations for the miraculous things found within the Bible, including the flood.  It is as easy for me to believe that God, by His divine power, lead each animal on to the ark and that He then put them into a hibernation state, only to awaken them when the time was right, as it is to imagine a situation in which Noah was charged with daily care and feeding of the animals on the ark.

I suppose it doesn't really matter which version of the account is correct.  There is no particular explanation given in the Bible about what Noah was doing during the flood.  Either way, God was in charge and He controlled the destiny of each one and made sure that no one perished who was within the ark of safety.

Miracles are by definition unusual and not easily explainable.  If they happened every day, then they wouldn't be miracles.

There is no natural explanation for Jesus feeding five thousand people, raising a little girl from the dead, or many of the other things He did.  There are only eye witness accounts of what happened with the explanation simply that these were miracles.

That's enough explanation for me.  God often chooses to work through miraculous means because anything else would be too simple.  It just takes a little faith on our part to accept them as such.

And that's just what it takes to accept my Savior.

Clean My Room?

"Dear God," my son, Elliot, prayed.  "Please help my room to stay clean."

Elliot and Vince's room has a strong tendency not to stay clean.  I can't really say that it is the rooms fault.  As far as I can tell it is actually the occupants of the room who have brought random books into it, stacked toys in different spots, and drop their clothes at various points over the floor rather than in the clothes basket in the closet. 

The fact that Elliot and Vince had to clean up their room recently probably had brought this top of mind to him.  He didn't want to have to clean it again, any time soon.

My grandmother often says, "God helps those who help themselves."  Now, this isn't found anywhere in the Bible and in fact I think the bigger factor in whether or not we gain divine assistance in our endeavors isn't whether or not we are "helping ourselves," but if we are serving God with our whole heart.

That said, prayer is not a substitute for hard work.  "God, help someone to cook supper for my husband and kids tonight," or "God, please help the weeds to stop growing in my garden and someone to mow my lawn for me," are the sorts of prayers that God is unlikely to answer in the affirmative. 

"Please, God, help me ace my test tomorrow," is more likely to be answered positively, if the person praying it has studied a lot.

If I am honest, there have been times when I walked in my son's shoes.  There have been moments when I tried to use prayer to cover my own personal laziness and what I received was a nudge to do more, rather than a quick fix of my problem.

For, in my experience, God is far more likely to give strength and perseverance to two young men tasked with the job of cleaning a room that they "dirtified," than He is to magically clean it for them.

Shining

I saw a lightning bug flying through the garage the other afternoon.  It wasn't very impressive, just a stubby little insect flying slowly to a lunch meeting.  If I didn't know what it was, I certainly wouldn't have recognized it in this environment.

At the same time, I have seen these bugs many times at night.  Flickering with light, they look like tiny stars fallen to earth.  Each fire fly adds just a little bit of beauty to the summer night.

Each one of us has a place where we can shine, a place where we can make a difference.  For me, it is my office -- a place where I feel comfortable talking and sharing with people.  Oddly enough, when I am outside of the office, I often feel uncertain and less able to find words than when I am in my clinic setting.

Maybe that seems a little odd, but I believe that it is the way that God made us.  This is why He gave to each of us a set of talents and skills that we have and why He put us in the place where we find ourselves.

There is a perfect situation for each one of us to shine and our goal should be to find that place. 

Pushing ourselves into situations that don't fit our talents and personalities will not work very well.  At the same time, when we find the right place, we can shine, just like a firefly at midnight.

Champion Climber?

"Dad," my five year old son said to me one evening.  "I know what I want to be when I grow up."

"Really," I said.  "What is that?"  I can never tell what Elliot is going to come up with, but it is seldom something that looks to bring in lots of wealth to his family -- the other day he was planning to be a fire fighter in Guatemala -- a worthy endeavor, but probably not so lucrative.

"Yes," he said.  "I'm going to be a champion climber!"

Oh,"  I said.  "What sorts of things will you climb?"

"Well," he said thoughtfully.  "I think I will race squirrels to the tops of trees."

I have a feeling that Elliot's climbing idea will probably pass in a few days, although you never know.  At the same time, it does seem as though he is setting his sights pretty high.

If I had to say one thing about his future goals, it would be to ask that whatever he chooses as a vocation, it would be something that he can serve others in.  Setting your sights for the stars is not as important as seeing others in need and being willing to spend the time necessary to make them feel loved.

Doctor, Guatemalan Fire Fighter, Squirrel Racer, or whatever other occupation one could think of is only worth while in as much as we see the face of Jesus in the folks around us and then minister to their needs as to Him. 

So, I pray that whatever occupations my children might choose some day, that in them, they will choose to serve others.

Even it is only to help take care of the squirrels they race.

Love Is...?

I don't like feet.

There are probably some people out there with beautiful feet, but in my experience, they are a part of our bodies that doesn't smell very good, is prone to infections, and often doesn't quite get the care it needs.

Part of the problem is that as folks age, along with all of the other joys that happen, their feet seem to get farther away from their arms.  This makes it hard for them to cut their nails and do relatively simple foot care.

I am not a pedicurist, but I do cut toe nails.  It is a little act of love to take out my clippers and take care of my patients in this way.  It isn't something I have a lot of training in or, something that I get paid extra to do and yet, I believe it is just as important, in its own way, as any EKG or MRI I have ever ordered.

As I cut them, I think of Jesus at the Last Supper, thinking of last lessons He could share with
His disciples.  It was clear that they still weren't getting the messages He was trying to share with them.  In that moment, He rose from the meal and took a basin and filled it with water and in love and humility, began to wash His disciples' feet.

The message was clear.  Love isn't helping beautiful and rich people become even more beautiful and wealthy.  Love is bending and serving.  Love is meeting the needs of those who cannot meet their own needs themselves.  Love is giving to those who will never return the favor.

Love is bending down, while staring death in the face, and washing the dust and grime of a Palestinian road from your disciples' feet.  Love is clipping the nails of those who can no longer reach their feet.

Love is...?

Asking is Easier!

“Dr. Waldron, there is something wrong with my son!”

The son in question was sixteen months old and playing on the floor, oblivious to the expressed maternal concern. I asked a series of questions to figure out what was going on, only to have all answered in the negative.

“He’s just so fussy.” His mother told me, anguish seeping from her words like water from a sponge.

I resorted to performing a physical examination of the child, not very impressive, but hopefully it would give me an idea of what was wrong. His ears were OK, throat looked fine, but when I looked in his nose, I discovered the source of his problem.

There was a little blue object looking at me from within Chad’s nasal cavity. Upon retrieval, I found two baby M & M’s.

Unfortunately, Chad was unable to talk – at least enough to tell me what his problem was. His mother didn’t know how to help him, because she didn’t know what was wrong.

This is one of the great things about being human. We can communicate. We can tell others stories about ourselves, we can explain who we are with words. More importantly, we can pray, opening our hearts to one who listens to all requests.

Too often, we act like 16-month-old Chad with M & M s in his nose. We act cranky and difficult to get along with and still do not make an attempt to communicate our needs to God.

Prayer is the question that holds within it all answers. As we open our souls to communicate to God, He hears and provides for us.

God knows our needs, but he wants us to ask. He wants us to tell Him what to make better, even if it is so simple as M & M’s in our nose.

A Great Work

One of the great things about having company is that Legos get picked up.

Our three older children were tasked with this mission and went (somewhat somberly) into the basement to do this thankless task.  Eventually, they reemerged with the news that the task was done.

Vince came up the stairs last of all.  "Dad," he told me.  "We are all done.  As we were picking up Legos, I thought of a verse that goes well with it."

"What verse is that, Vince?"  I asked him.

"'I am doing a great work,'" he told me.  "I won't tell you the rest of the verse because it doesn't go as well with it.  But it is about Nehemiah and how he was doing a great work and could not stop it, even though Tobiah (Nehemiah's enemy) wanted him to."

The verse is from the book of Nehemiah (6:3).  Nehemiah was doing the daunting task of rebuilding the city walls around Jerusalem and was opposed by various men who tried to distract him from the work.  His answer each time was that he was doing a great work and could not come down and leave the work.

I suppose it is easy to think of only "big things" as a great work.  Things like, say, building a wall around a capital city, climbing Mt. Everest, or competing in a hot dog eating contest.  But life is made up of a lot more small tasks that don't seem particularly great or important.

It is awfully easy in the midst of these not so great tasks to get side tracked by interesting, but relatively unimportant things.  Whether we are picking up Legos, building a wall around Jerusalem, or raising children, it is important to remember that the job is important and most be completed before the next one is begun.

Few things are as discouraging as having to pick up a room full of Legos, but there are plenty that take longer and more rewarding in the end.

Whatever task we are facing, we must not stop, for we are doing a great work.

Too Many Alligators

"Dad," Elliot asked from the back seat of our mini van.  "Are their poisonous frogs in other countries where there is war... like Asia?"

My five year old son has been fixated on frogs lately and some of the question he asks about them are pretty random.

"I guess so," I said.  Certainly there is some country that is dealing with war that also has at least one species of poisonous frog in it.  That certainly would be my guess for Jeopardy.

There was silence for a little while, as Elliot gathered his thoughts together.  Soon he began again. 

"I wish I could kill all of the alligators and crocodiles," he said forcefully.

"Why?"  My wife, Elaine, asked him.

"Because they eat frogs!"

"But if they didn't eat frogs, there would probably too many of them.  Anyway, there aren't any alligators in Indiana."

Elliot thought a bit more.  "Well, I wish I could invite all of the frogs to Indiana then and I would teach them about Jesus and how to stay away from alligators and crocodiles."

My son is young and can be forgiven if he doesn't understand that there is purpose for all of the things that God has created -- large and small, ferocious and timid, alike.  While it is tempting to believe that more frogs and fewer alligators could only be beneficial to everyone involved, odds are that it would upset a balance that currently exists.  Both are important.

This is the way in creation.  It is also the plan for our lives.  For, God gives us both frogs and alligators -- things that we want and circumstances that we don't -- in order that we can grow.  It is all to easy to rail against the things we don't like, desiring only that which we believe would make us happiest.

I cannot imagine a world with only frogs (even if my son can), for it would be a pretty dreary place.

Fortunately, I don't need to worry.  God has everything in hand and will continue to give me both frogs and alligators for the foreseeable future.

I am glad -- not because I enjoy the hard times, but because it tells me that God cares enough to give me what I need.  That is a blessing indeed.

A Puzzling Situation

The puzzle was amazing – it weighed over forty pounds and contained 18, 240 pieces. Very few would attempt to complete such a difficult puzzle, but that is exactly what Mr. Richard Gontarz did in 2005.

Day after day, Mr. Gontarz labored over it. Day after day, he neglected family and friends trying or order this chaos. Finally, after ten months of effort – over one thousand hours of work, the puzzle was completed – nearly.

For, Mr. Gontarz discovered on completion of the puzzle that one piece was missing. His house was searched from top to bottom without results and it became apparent that Buddy, the family beagle had eaten it.

Many people speak of life as though it was a puzzle. They see confusion and chaos in the daily decision they face. They work so hard and still face uncertainty that everything will come together.

They struggle for goals that always seem just out of reach. Then, at the end of life, they look back to the realization that there is something missing – that something was always missing for them to experience completion.

Jesus is that missing piece. He is the part of the puzzle that must come first. When He is in a life, it ceases to be puzzling, but rather a daily revelation. There are still daily decisions and much hard work, but Christ’s presence brings order to the madness.

In the end, the life that is begun and maintained with Christ will come together in a picture. This puzzle, begun on faith, will end as a reflection of the One who began it – Jesus Christ.

A Few Cloves of Garlic

Last fall, around the middle of October, I performed an act of faith.  I took some garlic bulbs and carefully tilled some ground in my garden and then planted them in a (fairly straight) row.  Finally, I mulched them under a thick bed of straw.

All winter long, I did nothing to them.  I didn't water them.  I didn't weed them.  I didn't read these tiny bulbs stories, play the tuba for them or, do an interpretive dance for them.  I just left them alone, knowing that I had done what I could and that God would do the rest.

Now, this spring, there are nice green stalks poking above the ground to show where the garlic was planted last fall.  Now, I can't say that every clove came up, but enough has that it definitely was worth my while.

While I waited six or seven months for the results of my garlic planting, there are other things, like asparagus or fruit trees, where the results come years down the road.

There are many times that I do the same things in life.  As I speak to my patients, I am often trying to plant little seeds of encouragement to see them improve their health.  Often these seeds lie dormant for many moons, which is more than a little discouraging.  Every so often, someone chooses to act on my encouragement and that is enough reason to continue on.

Even more important are the seeds that I sow for Jesus.  For, He is the one who truly provides healing and makes a difference in hurting lives.  While it is an act of faith to share my experiences with others, once again, it is sowing a seed that may sprout in time.

I will keep sowing these seeds, for while everyone will not grow and bear fruit, even a few makes it worthwhile.  So much more so than planting a few cloves of garlic.

Baking a Few Loaves

A woman settles down in her little Jewish home to bake some bread. It’s not an easy task. She has no refrigerator, no modern appliances, she has only her hands and a little wood stove to bake with, yet somehow, as usual the bread turns out.

The next day, her young son grabs up a few small loaves as he runs out the door. She calls him back, telling him that bread is not enough to feed a growing boy: “Take these fish too.” She says. He does so and then runs off.

That evening her son returns home with a fantastic story. Her bread, just baked the day before, had been divided to feed 5000 people! They had all shared that and the fish – there was even some left over!

What did she think, this little Jewish mother? Did she wish for the loaves back again so she could have baked them better? Would she have used better ingredients if she had known Jesus would be eating them?

We of course, don’t know the answer to any of these questions. Yet, I am certain that this woman would have put extra effort into baking if she had known so many people would be eating the fruits of her labors.

Anything worth doing is worth doing well. God wants to use the fruit of our labors too. Yet, so often we turn in suboptimal efforts that He is scarcely able to use.

God despises lukewarmness. Mediocrity is the antithesis of the Christian life – it is all or nothing. He wants our best, or nothing at all!

So, when you bake bread, or do any of the other “menial” chores that crowd our days, make special effort. You too may find out, like a Jewish mother so long ago, what the Master can do with a few loaves of bread.

Zika Virus

Zika Virus has not reached Indiana -- at least not in any significant numbers.  It is true, that there have been a few cases of people who have travelled elsewhere and brought it back to the state, but in general, it isn't here.  It won't likely come here in significant numbers either.  The mosquito which carries it, the Aedes Aegypti, apparently finds our winters a little too cold to want to live around here.

I suppose, I should back track, since not every one knows what Zika Virus is.  Zika Virus is (as its name implies) a virus.  It is carried by mosquitoes and generally causes a flu like illness, with fevers, body aches, tired feelings, and sometimes a rash.  Most people don't suffer serious complications from it and get over it in a few days, but unfortunately, when pregnant women get this, the virus causes significant problems for the baby, in particular causing poor brain development and microcephaly in many cases.

Zika Virus has been around since the 1950s in Asia, but in 2015, it came to Central and South America, where it has been wrecking havoc.  In fact, the country of El Salvador recommended that women in their country not get pregnant for the next two years while they try to figure things out.  Poor countries are trying to figure out what to do in this chaotic situation.

As of right now, there is no vaccine or cure for the disease.

It is, perhaps, easy for people living in Indiana to think to themselves:  "Well, that's their problem.  Hope they get figured out, but at least it isn't coming here," even as they cancel their trips to the Caribbean.  Our tendency as humans, is to care about things as they affect us as individuals, or people that we know.  The farther something is from our home and the places we go, the less we care about it and the less we are inclined to try to help.

Zika Virus will likely come to the southern United States and perhaps that alone makes it worthy of our interest, but I would hope that the fact that this disease affects humans would be enough to make us care. 

I hear politicians say that we are too poor to help others around the world and that it isn't in our interest to help them, anyway.  I would pray that we are never too poor to give to those in need.  For whether it is Zika Virus or, Ebola Virus, or some unknown disease next year, helping those who are suffering, regardless of our own self-interest, is the loving thing to do. 

That's plenty of reason, in my book, to care.

A Worm Named Sherry

The rain was pelting down outside and for some reason or other, my children, Anna and Elliot insisted on being out in it.  Anna has always loved the rain, but Elliot had another interest.

A door slammed shut and Elliot came sprinting in, holding something in his hand.  "Dad," he said.  "I've got a new friend!  Her name is Sherry."  He lifted his hand so I could see more clearly.  "She's a worm," he said proudly.

Which is worse, a boy name Sue, or a worm named Sherry?

"Elliot," I said.  "You should take Sherry back outside.  Mom really doesn't want earth worms in the house."

"But Dad," he said.  "We have a lot in common.  She likes dirt and I like dirt too.  And I don't like getting wet and she doesn't either.  I'm going to keep her inside until it stops raining."

With that, he ran off to introduce Sherry to his mother.

I am not sure what inspired Elliot to show kindness to a worm.  Certainly he thought that they had some sort of commonality that wasn't as obvious to me as it was to him, but at the same time, he struggles to show kindness to his older brother and sister.

Sometimes, I guess, it is easier to get along with a worm that you don't really know, than with folks that you know really well.  I suppose that is why John had to tell the early church:  "And this commandment we have from Him:  whoever loves God must also love his brother."  (I John 4:21).

Whether or not it is a struggle at times, we are called to love the people closest to us.  It certainly won't always be easy, but to love our brothers and sisters is a true demonstration of Christian love.

Much more so than showing love to a worm named Sherry.

Easter Thoughts

I looked at the CT Scan results with a sinking feeling.  There was a mass in the head of my patient's pancreas.  That was bad enough, but worse, it looked like some of the nearby lymph nodes were enlarged, as well.

The man whose CT Scan results I was looking at, Jim, was a sixty year old man who had come in to see me for vague abdominal pain and some weight loss.  He didn't really have time to slow down as he was caring for two special needs children.  You could see in his eyes how much he loved them and could feel in the air how much they needed him. 

I shook my head, afraid of what the future held for them all.

As I picked up the phone to call Jim, I asked myself how I was going to share his results with him and still give him hope -- without being dishonest.  Fortunately, I suppose, I don't know the future and it is easy to fall back on that uncertainty to give someone a little light in an otherwise dark diagnosis.

I suppose the thing that keeps me going in medicine is the fact that those sorts of phone calls are few and far between.  It isn't usually all that hard to bring hope into a situation.

There are people who believe that the Bible is a book full of good teachings.  They think that it contains philosophy that enhances a person's life.  They just can't seem to believe the miracles that line its pages.

If I am honest, the Bible is a book that passes a death sentence on every person.  It is full of verses like "For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God."  In a sense, it is like a doctor who walks into each room to give a terminal illness as the diagnosis and then walks out, taking all hope with him. 

No treatment.

No cure.

That is all the Bible would say, except for one thing.

The Resurrection of Jesus Christ.

For, one day, two thousand years ago, one man conquered sin and death.  There is an assurance that because His tomb is empty, Jesus has power over death and that His promises are certain.  There is forgiveness and pardon and hope for all.

Because He lives we can too.