Tis the season...

Holiday tears

(by R.P.Edwards)

Sorrow often comes with "days"

Memorials of

The loss

When hearts were torn

Bereavement born

The constant

Crushing

Cost

So with the mirth

Of Peace on Earth

Be watchful for

The tears

Then pause to care

The burden...share

And hold the hurting

Near

Holidays, especially the festive ones, are "reminders" to many...that a loved one has passed on.  Not so "jolly" for these.  They often withdraw and endure...until the storm has passed.  

Just a gentle reminder to be watchful this season; watchful for the tears that many of our fellow travelers are quietly shedding.  What say you and I add to our "Christmas List" the priceless gift of a listening ear, a warm embrace, a genuine concern.  After all, it was compassion that compelled "Him," to come to our aid; to take on human flesh.  Let us, therefore, allow "Him" to use our arms, our voice, our homes...to remind these dear ones that "love" was the reason; and that His love for these...is stronger than death.

Following is a very simple video that was made a couple years back.  It reminds that there are, among us, those who are suffering this Christmas season.  It centers on those whose loved one died in the military.  But, if you will, please expand the message to include "all" who are less...this Christmas.  It's titled, "You're My Christmas Gift." View. Consider. Then be watchful...for tears.

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Moral Climate Change

Climate Change?

(by R.P.Edwards)

Climate change?

The answer's "YES!"

By season

And by year

From cold to hot

From wet...to not

Then back again

My dear

But some say Man's the reason

The source for weather woe

That gives me pause

For what's the cause

Of Changes

Long

Ago

He was simply known as Khulu Umuntu; which is Zulu for "Big Man," and, in environmental circles; for those whose passion and purpose is a clean planet, he is, or should I say "was," the point of the spear.  However, after much personal sacrifice and decades of toil, Ben Flager (his given name), suddenly dropped out of the "clean scene" and devoted himself to a more personal healing: body, mind, spirit.  Indeed, hardly seen for the last fifteen years, the Council of Concerned Scientists considered it a stroke of incredible good fortune that the, now eighty, Khulu Umuntu would agree to share a word at the Climate Change Conference in Durban, South Africa.

After rousing applause and a standing ovation of many minutes the elderly, fragile, slightly stooped "legend" began his remarks.  

"My fellow World Changers!" (applause) "I am honored that you would ask an old activist, such as myself, to speak a few words on behalf of your very important efforts concerning the climate change." (applause) "Back in my day it was clean water and air. Removing toxins from food and the soil.  These were our objectives." (standing applause)"But you, you! have undertaken a much more important task. You have chosen to address the deteriorating climate and it's causes." (applause with whistles) "You see, over the last twenty years I too have come to realize the importance of the intangibles such as honor, respect, love." (applause) "And I, like you, have seen a change in the climate.  Where once words like honor and respect and fidelity had meaning; now the world's climate is one of arrogance, selfishness and immorality." (crickets) "I remember the time when human life was sacred.  Now we abort the unborn and call it a right." (murmuring)  "I remember when a man and a woman was the natural, God ordained, pairing for marriage.  Now, ha!, anything goes!  So yes, we need to change the climate!  We need to...excuse me a minute." (the moderator's gentle hand on his left shoulder causes the Big Man to pause in order to tilt an ear to receive modifying information.) "Man made climate change? Yes, that what I... What? Global warming? Carbon footprints?  C'mon, this is no time for jokes. You've got to be kidding.  What a colossal waste of my time..."

___________

Yes, dear reader, the above story is a total fabrication.  Oh, there certainly was a conference this past week in Durban, South Africa.  And yes, it had to do with "climate change" folk who want nations (especially the U.S.) to do more.  But, I don't buy the whole climate change, global warming hysteria.  However, the real "climate change" alluded to by the fictional character, Khulu Umuntu; the one having to do with our universal slide into the moral cesspool; now that is the real issue that needs to be addressed.

For the lighter side of Global Warming/Cap n Trade, may I suggest the amateurish videos (below) I made some time back.

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Green Bean Casserole...and love

Consistent love

(by R.P.Edwards)

Consistent love

the child's desire

to warm the chill

to cool the fire

to calm the fears

to build the brave

to nurture "free"

to free...the slave

to always know

though distance great

the eyes, though hurt

will never hate

and falls are met

with arms a-wide

and warm embrace

where tears...can hide

then on, restored

and straightened, go

to conquer worlds

to strike the blow!

till death, at last

diverts above

to gaze upon

Consistent...love

"You mean...green bean casserole?"

"Yeah, that's it."

I have to admit, it was endearing...and a bit disarming.  My O-so-grownup eleven year old, desiring the security of "the same," made sure that that particular menu item was on the Thanksgiving Table.  He wasn't going to eat it, but it had to be there.

And I thought to myself, how important it is for those with young eyes to have a consistent anchor of solace, security...love, to hold onto.  To have an unselfish example of honor, truth, compassion, tenderness...to point them in the direction of the ultimate in all these.

Humbling.

And so, as the lad and his older siblings rush off to find the "Black Friday" bargains--the gadgets and gizmos that make them squeal with zeal...for the moment--I find myself hoping that the one gift they always, always, always can depend on...is a father that loves them...consistently, surely, purely...no matter what. Forever.

Green Bean Casserole anyone?

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Then He appeared...

Our Savior, Sure

(by R.P.Edwards)

He looked beyond

The package, poor

The liar, thief, 

The traitor, whore

To see through blood

The child, pure

And went to Calvary

Our Savior

Sure

Ok, I'm better now.  Just came from the Granite City Christmas parade and I'm, well, better.  I saw the firetrucks; the marching band; the zooming fez wearers; the Cardinal mascot; the churches, the boy and girl scouts; the office holders; the corvette club; the myriad of candy throwers; Mr and Mrs Clause and, up and down along the joyful route--from the High School to the downtown digs--the moms and dads and bag-holding tots taking it all in and giving it all back...the joy of the coming season; the potential of peace on earth and goodwill...to all.

And so, I'll turn from the heaviness of knowing; from discerning our disease; I'll turn instead to the hope promised by the coming star.  Yes, the human condition is low, loathsome, damnable.  But, someone--a very important someone--the most important someone--thought enough of the universal "us"...to open his arms, embrace our ugliness, and offer a new, fresh beginning to all who would merely whisper...save me. And His answer? "Yes...yes, I will. Of course I will."

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Of honor...and ignorance

The Scales

(by R.P.Edwards)

The hero stood

Before the scales

The nation sought

His weight

On one side, "Champion!"

Honor's child

The other?

A traitor's fate

His trophies nudged the needle

A moment, "Champion's" way

But his selfish, shameful, service since

Demanded

Traitor's pay

"I'm a veteran myself," says I. "But not a real one like you." The older gent (accompanied by his wife) smiled and then drove slowly off the lot.

That was a while back.  Our church wanted to honor veterans, so a "thank you" dinner had been planned for November 11, along with some non-threatening words to go with the grub. Hoping to bolster the numbers I had decided to visit a few of the "halls" to pass out invitations.  The gentleman above had come from the local VFW. My next stop was the Amvets and, after that, the American Legion hall.  And, since a few years ago I had learned the difference between the various veteran hang-outs; that had prompted my self-deprecating comment.  Sure, I was a vet; but I was more of a place-holder; no war, no action; just immature me in my younger (much) days.  Indeed, the greatest battle of my then life was in trying to grow up (still ongoing) and my greatest "victory" was, without question, when I surrendered to Jesus Christ.

Anyway, I've been contemplating the whole "hero" thing. The pedestal thing. The bestowing of honor thing. And, I must conclude, that like many I have a tendency to broad-brush, lump together, view through spectacles of rose.  And, in the broadest sense, I suppose this is benign, acceptable, expected; but for the individual "honorees;" the "I actually know thems"; well, perhaps a higher standard needs to be applied.

You see, whether you're a "hero" because of your self-sacrifice in the military service; or a "notable" because you were or are a wiz at some aspect of sports (think Penn State), what you "are" out of the foxhole, and out of the spotlight, determines if the "honor" should be specifically placed...on you.  

And so, when it comes to, say, an abortionist who also happens to be a member of the VFW, or an army retiree who relishes his open adulterous lifestyle, or an exceptional elevator of points and percentages who moonlights as a molester, do I split my decision; do I offer partial gratitude for a past performance, and play down the current despicable state? Or do I--and I definitely lean this way--say, "Your shameful lack of character nullifies any recognition real heroes are due."

Now, don't get me wrong; I am well aware that "all have sinned" is stamped on our human DNA and, O, thank God for the second and third chances allotted by the Creator to those willing to actually repent; but the issue is heroes, and the honoring of the same.  And, when protesters are more interested in the loss of athletic prowess, or unabashed moral slime-balls receive a thank-you for their veteran status; well...it's disturbing.

So, as the title infers, perhaps "ignorance" is the salve needed to soothe our hero-hunting eyes.  But, if unrepentant shameful actions come to light, then let "us" at least show some character, and turn our eyes...away.

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Because they gave...

Redux: Printed this a year ago (or so).  

Veterans Day
(by R.P.Edwards)

Oh how we love celebrity
The gifted
The degreed
But these have space
To flaunt their face
‘cause others chose…
To bleed

Veterans Day.  Originally Armistice Day, a show of gratitude to those who fought in World War I; now expanded to all vets.

I’ve noticed that this particular holiday doesn’t merit the same recognition as others.  Many institutions stay open and purr along as if it was just another November work day.  Indeed, my son’s university says…“wha?“ and my job wouldn’t think of “Holiday Pay,“ for this remembrance.  And, at first I thought it might be a “peace time” diss from a sometimes fickle public.  Then I thought some might consider it redundant.  After all, we do have Memorial Day.  But today, yes, this very day, I learned the real reason.  You see…it doesn’t fall on a Monday!  Ah…it’s so simple!  For some reason it must always fall on November 11.  Thus…no long weekend.

Mystery solved. 

So, do me a favor, will you?  What say you and I pause a moment from fawning over movie and TV stars; divert our eyes from political celebs; pull ourselves away from the electronic toys that consume our free time; and say a prayer for our service men and women.  And, along with the present, let's offer a bit of thanks for all those who have gone before.  For, without question, those who are so very high--their faces reflecting the sun--these stand upon the backs of the multitude; the many selfless veterans (living and dead) who do, and have done, their job; without fanfare, without applause; and often...without thanks.

And, if you are so inclined (and have the time) here's the video, The Stone...

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The Survivor

Cain

(by R.P.Edwards)

He who fought

The foe of death

And lives

To face the day

Will scoff at airy arrows sent

By those who buck

And bray 

Said Presidential candidate, Herman Cain, yesterday, at a news conference:  "I chose to address these accusations directly rather than try to do it through a series of continuous statements or spokespeople, because that's the person Herman Cain is; is to take my message directly to the people. With respect to the most recent accusations, I have never acted inappropriately with anyone, period!"

It was one of those "I'm tired" in the afternoon reclines and I, with remote in hand, opened the Fox news portal for a peek.  Instead of the normal fare there was an "any minute" anticipation of Mr Cain's addressing another "He did it" accusation that many years ago he said or did something offensive...in the sexual harassment area.  Well, I was mildly interested so I watched, nodded, rewound, watched, nodded, rewound, and finally recorded the thing.

My take: I like Herman Cain.  He strikes me as honest.  Not perfect. But honest.  And although the "sexual harassment" charge has been levied; and if true it's reprehensible, I am mindful of...his enemies.  Meaning those who are diametrically opposed to his "conservative" views and these, dear reader, in my lengthy observation, often have different views of "life, truth, God, patriotism....honor." And, as such, no tactic is beneath them.

Yes, I know, that's a bit harsh, but I'm pressed for time and, through recent events, some of my sugary coating has been dissolved.  One more thing: the poem above alludes to Mr Cain's life and death struggle against cancer.  He literally stood face to face with eternity and, having survived that monumental contest, these little darts from the dastardly; though deeply wounding to the untested; to he they must be as bubbles blown from child's toy.  Hang tough, Mr Cain.  The "truth" will come out.


One more note: of late I've been in a bit of a funk.  An Ecclesiastical frame of mind (all is vanity.)  However, a gentle note from reader, Jeff, nudged me off my malaise.  Thanks Jeff.  

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