Irregular Thanksgivings

Do you remember the famous Norman Rockwell painting of Thanksgiving that originally graced the cover of the Post magazine many years ago? In this famous painting a family is sitting around a table loaded with food and an older lady, probably the grandmother, is holding the turkey for all to see. As nostalgic and iconic as the picture may be, I don’t think this is what most people experience on Thanksgiving. What about you?

This fact was driven home to me during the table topic portion at my Toastmaster’s group this week. The lady leading the table topic asked, “Have you ever had an irregular Thanksgiving?” As it turned out, it seemed like everyone had had some kind of unusual event. The descriptions of these gatherings ranged from turkeys falling into a soapy sink, turkeys flying across the room and landing in a guest’s lap, being served a Chinese dinner instead of turkey and trimmings, and a lady showing up unannounced at an ex-spouse's house for Thanksgiving dinner.

This last one was interesting because the ex-husband had shown up at the ex-wife's house uninvited over the years, with his current girlfriend-of-the-month in tow. Then one year the ex-wife told the family (which included his children, their spouses, and the grandchildren), "We are going to Dad’s house this year." Sure enough, they all showed up, unannounced on the doorstep of his house, which he shared with his current girlfriend. The ex-wife said it was her best Thanksgiving ever because this time she surprised the ex-husband, and she did exactly what the ex-husband always did; she went into the living room and plopped down in a chair and allowed him to serve her.

Have you ever experienced an irregular Thanksgiving? I don’t think any of us truly have had the Thanksgiving that Norman Rockwell portrayed in his famous Post cover. Maybe I’m wrong, but I think more of us have experienced at least a few of the irregular kind. From my own experience, we know the meal is ready with the smoke alarm goes off. The details are very sensitive…but that’s the story and we are sticking to it. It seems the irregularities are what people remember most, and perhaps they at least make the day more memorable.

The examples I’ve given are amusing ones, but there are some for whom, disappointment is on the menu every time their family gets together. Could it be because we feel we are under pressure to live up to the Norman Rockwell ideal? That perfect Thanksgiving is what other people have, not us. But not so fast! Could it be that a change in attitude and a few altered expectations might turn around the outcome?

This Thanksgiving can be different if we adjust our expectations and realize that the purpose of the holiday is the opportunity to spend time together, to be with family and friends that you might not have a chance to see often. Find the joy in being together with whatever group you find yourself with this year. Yes, there may be mishaps. There may even be real problems! The food might not taste exactly as you remember it or not be to your personal liking. But instead of focusing on these inconveniences, consider what Thanksgiving is really about! Think of all that you have to be thankful for this year. I’m certain there are more things than you imagine. Start by making a list. Here are a few things to consider!
• You're alive
• You have a group to spend Thanksgiving with, even if it’s a only a pair of family members, a few or friends, or you're serving dinner at a homeless shelter!
• ________________________

What can you add to your list? What will you be thankful for this "irregular" Thanksgiving?

Rocks On My Path

Yes, it has happened. I had a dump truck load of rock through all over my path. It was a mess. And because I have been spending time pick out the best ones and rearranging them I haven’t been posting on my blog. I am very close to finishing my rock decorating scheme and will be back on my trek soon. Want a preview of the new rock beautification?

Is This You?

He failed in business in ’32.

He ran as a state legislator and lost in ’32.

He tried business again in ’33 and failed again.

His sweetheart died in ’35.

He had a nervous breakdown in ’41.

He was defeated for the nomination to Congress in’43.

He was defeated again for Congress in’48.

He was defeated when he ran for the Senate in ’55.

He was defeated for the vice presidency of the United States in ’56.

He ran again for Senate in ’58 and lost.

Who is he?

Most of us would have kept going after the first failure. A group of us might have gone on even after the third, fourth, and fifth defeat. Very few individuals would keep going after the eighth or ninth. Where would you have stopped if this had been your life’s path?

Perseverance is defined as "determined continuation with something; steady and continued action or belief, usually over a long period and especially despite difficulties or setbacks." Have you heard the saying, “Keeping the faith?" Another way to word it is “not giving up regardless of what may happen.” It takes faith to persevere.

The individual’s life listed above had to have faith in something in order to keep going. Was his faith in himself or in something bigger? Could it have been his faith in believing that he had a destiny? I don’t know. But I do wonder what keeps a person going in the face of set-backs, failures, and defeats. What do you have faith in that keeps you on your path?

Philippians 3:13, in the New King James Version, says, “Brethren, I do not count myself to have apprehended; but one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead . . . “ Let’s look more closely at that statement. “Apprehended” is another way of saying to grasp. The Greek word used here is active. This isn’t just a one-time grab. It's active, and it means to seize or clutch, to clasp or embrace. Likewise, the apostle's statement, “But one thing I do," shows specific concentration and focus. As Goethe said, “When all is said, the greatest art is to limit and isolate oneself.” In the next phrase, “Forgetting those things which are behind,” we see a reminder that regardless of whether an experience is good, bad, or neutral, we should leave it behind and continually strive, or “reach forward.” Stretching forward evokes a mental picture of a runner leaning and reaching forward as he seeks to finish the race. It involves using every muscle in your body to achieve your goal; straining with your last ounce of energy.

Philippians 3:14 continues: “I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” I am pushing and crowding forward to reach the goal or cross the finish line with a prize in mind. Here is our motivation -- Jesus himself, whom we must continually focus upon as we run this race. The Greek for “high calling” literally means that we are to strive for the prize “of the upward calling.” “The goal continually moves forward as we press on, but yet it is never out of sight,” states Robertson's Word Pictures of the New Testament.

Hebrews 12:2 from The Message says it this way: “Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished this race we're in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed - that exhilarating finish in and with God - he could put up with anything along the way: cross, shame, whatever. And now he's there, in the place of honor, right alongside God.”

May God give you that extra measure of perseverance when you need it so you can keep on keeping on the path He has you walking.

Now, can you guess who the person is with all the defeats listed at the beginning? Do you want to know if he kept going and never gave up? Well, I think you'll agree that he never quit. He kept trying until the very last.

In 1860, Abraham Lincoln was elected President of the United States.
Don’t you give up, either!

"Let me tell you the secret that has led me to my goal.
My strength lies solely in my tenacity."
~ Louis Pasteur

Paths

For many summers, bunches of us kids enjoyed the freedom of exploring pathways that snaked all over a small valley in the back country near Yosemite, as we camped with our families. One place in particular comes to mind when I think of the word path. It’s the path to the little meadow embraced by a small stand of forest at the top of one of the mountains.

On the last section of the path, in order to reach our favorite meadow we needed to climb a 45° slippery slope of deep decomposed granite-covered mountain. As soon as each of us reached this section we started running as fast as we could to make it through this quick-sand-like mountain defense. It was like an epic battle against the mountain to win our way up this path to reach our treasured meadow. The problem was that year after year we would run as hard as we could, but our progress became slower and more difficult. Finally we would become so tired in our assault on the trail that we would find ourselves sliding backwards. It was like being on an escalator going the wrong direction. People would just pass you by—going backwards. If you stopped moving completely you would soon find yourself knee deep in granite sand.

One year when I got to this section of the path, one of my friends happened to be climbing over to the right of our usual path a bit more than normal. To my surprise, they didn’t seem to be struggling as much as the rest of us. With effort, I slowly worked my way horizontally to the right. Although the path was still covered with the decomposed granite, to my surprise it didn’t seem as slippery. I decided to try stepping and step a bit more to the right up against some Manzanita plants and discovered that the ground was firmer! Why didn’t I think of this before? There was still a river of decomposed granite, the mountain was still breath-takingly steep, but I now had a firm foundation under my feet. My feet were covered with granite sand, but I could still walk. I must have looked smug as I slowly passed everyone.
Once out of this treacherous section, the ground levels out near the top and is covered with five- to six-foot high Manzanita plants and the path narrows substantially as it winds through the plants. After much effort, I finally broke through the Manzanita growth to a view of our special sun- dappled meadow.

As I have considered that path, I have realized that it is like our life’s journey. Sometimes we struggle and fight against the situation or circumstances of our life. Sometimes we just keep going, struggling and never changing, and becoming weaker. On occasion we stop while the world passes us by. Then maybe we do something different and find a fresh step on solid footing. We are finally able to move forward and make progress. However, we can soon discover that as we move out of one complication, we immediately face another, until we reach our goal.

I could have ended this pathway story right there. But as I reflected, a deeper thought bubbled to the surface. God was with me on both paths. Yes, just like with the quicksand-like granite struggle, God is with us during every challenging time in our lives. Times when we just can’t take another step. Periods when we are weak and weary. At such times we go about life in our own strength, mental ability, or sheer will. The Lord bids us to come to Him and He will give us rest. The Message says, “Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest.” Matthew 11:28. He is there even when we are weak, asking us to gain strength from Him. God desires to show us a better path and He will set our feet on a firm foundation. Again from The Message, “The fundamental fact of existence is that this trust in God, this faith, is the firm foundation under everything that makes life worth living. It's our handle on what we can't see.” Hebrews 11:1

Want to reach the goal and set foot in the beautiful sun-dappled meadow? He is with you and He knows the way.

What I’m learning about. . . ambiguity.

I don’t remember the words he used, just the point. “He” was the new president at an international mission organization I had loved and worked at for nearly 12 years. I was the first to be laid off. I can’t tell you why the new president chose me to go first, but I know God allowed it. Obviously this was not a situation I welcomed, but when it was forced on me it was accompanied by a wash of peace and a splash of hope.

The realization that being laid off was God’s plan did provide peace, but then there was the question, “His plan for what?” I know it allowed me to escape from the painful collapse of the mission organization. I know I have been available to help family members in ways I would never had been able to before. He obliged me to evaluate what I was spending my coins on and to cut my costs, which allows me to live on lots less. All this I learned because of hindsight providing a clear perception. I can look backwards and see His hand directing my steps. But the question persists, “His plan for what? What’s next?”

Jeremiah 29:11 in The Message version says, “I know what I'm doing. I have it all planned out - plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for.” Linking the words I know to future seems like an oxymoron until I consider who is saying they “know.” The Lord has stated unequivocally that He alone knows. Not only does He know, but He has plans. Not for just an ordinary what-to-do-today agenda, but He has a long-term goal to flourish, thrive, and mature me.
Encouraging, but again, “What’s next?”

I have heard this kind of period in people’s lives described as the waiting room or the desert. I don’t care for those labels. I have decided to call it my University of Ambiguity. To be in a waiting room conjures up visions of a doctor’s office with old magazines, sick people, and unpleasant tests coming. I’ve been told there is beauty to be found in a desert, but I haven’t discovered it. The desert is a place at a loss for water, dusty, hot, and desolate for long stretches. University of Ambiguity communicates a time of learning and growth.

During this time I have realized that what caused a change in my perception is attitude. When I start to fret and agonize about not knowing what’s next, the desert winds kick up and I long for the simplicity of ambiguity. With ambiguity I have found a friend, a comfort, an ability to focus on the moment, to live right now without having to know all the answers. I have had to learn to live without certainty, but I have confidence in the One who knows everything.

I went on a wonderful series of interviews for a particular job. It was wonderful because I was relaxed and living totally in the moment. Neither of these was normal for me. For once I didn’t need to know all the answers. I could talk about the gift God gave me of being laid-off and mean it. I could say to them that my focus is to be right here right now, and it was. We had great conversations about life and things unrelated to the open position. It was a delight. It was through this experience that it dawned on me I was living happily in ambiguity, my ambiguity. I didn’t get the job, but was that why I was involved in those interviews? I don’t think so. The Human Resource Director told me their decision had been difficult because everyone enjoyed their time with me so much. In my University of Ambiguity days I have learned that many times the reason we believe something happens has nothing to do with the reality behind the event. Ambiguity teaches me to squeeze the life out of every second while grabbing hold of God. It all makes sense to Him. He has “my” plan under control.

James 5:11 tells me, “What a gift life is to those who stay the course! You've heard, of course, of Job's staying power, and you know how God brought it all together for him at the end. That's because God cares, He cares right down to the last detail.”

Be Encouraged-Don't Give Up!

By way of encouragement to all here are a few excerpts from “30 famous authors whose works were rejected by publishers” by Michelle Kerns. I hope their experiences will keep you keeping on the path. Don't give up!
1. Stephen King received dozens of rejections for his first novel, Carrie; he kept them tidily nailed to a spike under a timber in his bedroom. One of the publishers sent Mr. King’s rejection with these words: We are not interested in science fiction which deals with negative utopias. They do not sell.
2. William Golding’s Lord of the Flies was rejected by 20 publishers. One denounced the future classic with these words (which should be inscribed on the hapless publisher’s tomb): an absurd and uninteresting fantasy which was rubbish and dull.
3. John le Carré submitted his first novel, The Spy Who Came in From the Cold, one of the publishers sent it along to a colleague, with this message:You’re welcome to le Carré – he hasn’t got any future.
4. Anne Frank -According to one publisher, The Diary of Anne Frank was scarcely worth reading: The girl doesn’t, it seems to me, have a special perception or feeling which would lift that book above the ‘curiosity’ level. 15 publishers (other than this dope) also rejected The Diary of Anne Frank.
5. Joseph Heller - In an act of almost unparalled stupidity, one publisher wrote of Mr. Heller’s Catch-22: I haven’t the foggiest idea about what the man is trying to say…Apparently the author intends it to be funny – possibly even satire – but it is really not funny on any intellectual level.
6. J.K. Rowling - Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s (later Sorceror’s) Stone was rejected by a dozen publishers, including biggies like Penguin and HarperCollins. Bloomsbury, a small London publisher, only took it on at the behest of the CEO’s eight-year old daughter, who begged her father to print the book. God bless you, sweetheart.
7. George Orwell - One publisher rejected Mr. Orwell’s submission, Animal Farm, with these words: It is impossible to sell animal stories in the USA.
9. Tony Hillerman, now famous for his Navajo Tribal Police mystery novels, was initially told by publishers to Get rid of all that Indian stuff.
10. John Grisham’s first novel, A Time to Kill, was rejected by a dozen publishers and 16 agents before breaking into print and launching Mr. Grisham’s best-selling career.

Are You Winning Your Race?

His left foot was fractured, but he ran anyway. He had to run. It was the last race in the last Olympics in which he would ever compete. Dave Johnson ran.

The stress fracture had happened a few months before the Barcelona, Spain Olympics in 1992. The hope was that if he stayed off it and didn’t practice it would get better and he would be able to compete. But the stress fracture became unbearable after the first day of the two-day Decathlon in Spain.

Dave had to complete the last of ten events, the 1500 meters, to medal. He put on a shoe two sizes larger, laced it up tight, and went to the starting line to run four laps. Dave told me that in the Decathlon, the competition comes down to the last lap on the last turn on the back side of the track in the last event. To further complicate matters, all your strength is gone after two days of all-out exertion.

Dave ran, forcing himself to put one step in front of the other, until he finished the race and won the bronze medal. He was the first American to medal in the Decathlon since Bruce Jenner had won a gold metal ten years earlier.
"If you doubt you can accomplish something, then you can't accomplish it. You have to have confidence in your ability, and then be tough enough to follow through." Rosalyn Smith Carter.
I had the privilege of knowing Dave Johnson during this period in his life. At that time, I lived in Southern California and worked at the church where Dave and his wife, Sherry, attended. The church's youth director was one of his training partners and my roommate dated another of Dave’s training partners. Terry, who was the track coach at Azusa Pacific University, where Dave attended and trained, also attended the church and was one of the elders.

Not long after I started working at the church I attended an after-church luncheon at Terry’s home. It was a beautiful Southern California day, so most of us were outside. I was sitting at a table with Terry, with my back to the some of the other tables. Terry began talking to someone at another table about a recent appearance on a talk show and some comments made by a sports announcer. That caught my attention.

After lunch, everyone just sat around and talked. I ended up sitting next to a very nice lady, just spending time getting to know her. During the course of our conversation, I noticed that she was wearing a lovely ring and she told me she had gotten it in Korea in 1988. (The Olympics had been held in Seoul, Korea in 1988). Perhaps I had been slow on the uptake, but now things began to add up. I took a closer look at this group of people and realized they were all in extremely great shape. Not just good – great! I asked my table companion, “Who are these people?”

As we talked, she began to point out different people; he is the world record holder in this event, he competed in the ’84 Olympics in Los Angeles, and he competed in ’88 in Seoul, and so on. To my surprise, I eventually learned that my friendly tablemate was none other than Sherry Johnson, the wife of Dave Johnson.

While this group of people was mostly world class athletics, they are also people just like you and me, with bills, fears, joys, friends, sorrows, etc. Dave would frequently say that anyone can train their body, but it’s the mental game where you win or lose. He had the chance to live out those words in 1992.

The lead-up to the ‘92 Barcelona Olympics was saturated with commercials from Reebok asking, “Who’s the World’s Greatest Athlete, Dan or Dave?” The Dan was Dan O’Brien, who went on to win a gold metal in the 1996 Olympics in Atlanta.

But 1992 was a different story. After all the hype stirred up by the ad campaign, Dan didn’t even make the Olympic team. During the Olympic trials he willingly passed on the lower heights in the pole vault and then failed to clear the bar in the next round after his three tries. The result was that he did not receive any points for the event and failed to qualify for the Olympics. As a consequence, Reebok refocused the ads to rally support around Dave.

Steve Young says, “The principle is competing against yourself.” In spite of the hype, Dave was competing against himself as he began his last race with the goal to the finish. That race required him to place one painful step in front of the other to finish and medal in the Olympics. Where does that type of strength come from?

1 Corinthians 9:24-27 comes to my mind as a fitting passage:
Do you not know that those who run in a race all run, but one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may obtain it.

And everyone who competes for the prize is temperate in all things. Now they do it to obtain a perishable crown, but we for an imperishable crown.

Therefore I run thus: not with uncertainty. Thus I fight: not as one who beats the air.

But I discipline my body and bring it into subjection, lest, when I have preached to others, I myself should become disqualified.

In Paul's day, a laurel wreath of victory was awarded to the victors in a race. In the ancient Olympic Games the “crown” was made of branches of the wild olive tree, but these were corruptible crowns. Paul continues on in the passage illustrating his own behavior, using the example of a boxer. He does not punch at the air as a boxer hitting at the shadows, but with direction and determination he keeps his eye on the true prize.

Verse 27 “is like the horses in a chariot race, which must be kept well in hand by whip and rein if the prize is to be secured" (Robertson and Plummer). Paul’s body would not be his master. He worked towards self-discipline to “bring it into bondage.” Paul was determined to withstand the test and not be disqualified.

Are you winning your race?

What Makes You Come Alive?

A fine misty fog drizzled and rolled over the ground. As morning light broke, I sat on the back patio steps anticipating the day to come. Normally the fog would have been a welcome change to the typical Southern California weather, but not this morning. I had paper flags, streamers, and tablecloths decorating the tennis court, surrounding walkways, and other event areas. At 11:30 a.m., over one hundred people, in full costume, were going to be descending on this location for a medieval party. As a group, we had emptied out every costume store in the San Gabriel Valley.

The planning committee for this event was made up of people I chose because I knew they enjoyed having fun and believed in creating the impossible. The committee (I use that term loosely) had met over a period of several months, planning and having a good time during what we loosely called meetings. This event was just something I wanted to do for fun. That was the stated goal; fun! Members of the committee went on a recognition mission to The Medieval Times, a Southern California medieval theme dinner theater attraction. We went ostensibly to do some fact-finding and to gather ideas for our event. To be truthful, if all we had was the enjoyment of the committee meetings, it would have been enough. But there was more to come and it only got better.

We arranged for two guys dressed up as jesters to be parking attendants. We set up gaming sites, refreshment booths, craft areas, and then, of course, the tennis courts turned into the banquet hall. We placed eight-foot long rectangular tables around the outside edge of the courts, divided into four sections. Each section had its own theme color. As people arrived, they checked in at the registration tent and received a color marker that matched with their dining area. This color would also indicate the jouster they would root for throughout the event.

Yes, a jouster! Our decision to have jousters brought about one of the questions we needed to conquer during our planning: how do we do a joust that utilizes a horse on a tennis court? In the end, I found stick ponies colorfully painted in different colors. I’m sure you rode one of these when you were little, but the question for us was, would grown men ride them? Surprisingly, the answer was yes!

Another question that came up was whether the men would wear tights to this event. Believe it or not, they did! We had knights, jesters, monks, jugglers, peasants, minstrels and all sorts of people dressed in medieval clothing. Every guest came in costume. Most of them rented their costumes, but some borrowed them from Renaissance Fairs, and a few people even sewed their own. It was utterly amazing to see how everyone got so thoroughly into the spirit of things!

One big concern for me was that in order to be true to the period, we chose not to use eating utensils. How would our guests react? To me this decision would add to the atmosphere and the authenticity of the event. But it brought additional problems with it, such as what we would feed the people and how? We finally decided to assign men to dig a big pit and we cooked Cornish game hens with red potatoes and a few vegetables in oven bags wrapped in foil, right there in the ground. We even had suitably attired “wenches” serving the food.

One of the event's highlights was a best costume contest, with the winners being crowned king and queen of the event. For entertainment we had the jousting team, which was made up of four men. Our jousters included three very fit and handsome college-age men and one, let’s just say, much older man. I had met with the men before the joust and it had been decided that the older gentleman would win the event. Yes, it was rigged, but what great fun! The whole event was wonderfully enjoyable! Our goal had been met.

Why this story? Because I believe it is incredible what people can do, what joy can be had and how it can spread, and what astonishing things can happen if one person has a vision, believes it is possible, and then surrounds themselves with great people that get on board and catch the vision. This is just one possible example, but oh, what a pleasure it was! I look back and I still find it unbelievable to realize what we accomplished. Men in tights! I mean men of all ages, even manly men . . . in tights! Everyone got into the spirit of it, bought into it, and lived and enjoyed that day of fun.

Don't ask yourself what the world needs; ask yourself what makes you come alive. And then go and do that. Because what the world needs are people who have come alive. Howard Washington Thurman

Time To Come Alive

"Don't ask yourself what the world needs; ask yourself what makes you come alive. And then go and do that. Because what the world needs are people who have come alive." Howard Washington Thurman

What makes you come alive? What makes your soul sing at just the thought? Find time to do it. Your heart and soul will thank you in ways you can’t imagine. This could be a small thing, one thing or many things. Whatever it is, perhaps knowing this is a signal that you need to consider a change in your life direction, or that you should seriously contemplate the idea of a career change.

If you don’t know what brings you joy, it may be because you haven’t met yourself. If you don’t know who you are, who you really are, how will you every find your joy? How will you know your joy if it walked up and knocked on your life’s door?

One way to do this is to acquire a journal. It could anything from a simple spiral-bound tablet to a fancy leather bound plank book. Need ideas to get started? Describe your perfect day from the moment you wake up until you lay your head down at night. Be as detailed as possible and include colors, smells, sounds, and all the sensory impressions you can think of. Take as many pages as you need to finish this task

Here are ten questions to salt the mine and help get you started. For each question, write out why you answered the way you did. This is an important part of this step.
1. What is your favorite color?
2. What is your favorite time of year?
3. Do you like the beach, mountains, desert, high country, coast, prairie, or what?
4. Do you have many friends or just a few close friends?
5. How do you feel about each of your family members? Pick at least one word to describe each of your family relationship. Write one paragraph about each person.
6. Are you a morning person? Or do you come alive at night-time?
7. What is one item you can’t live without daily?
8. What makes you cry?
9. What makes you laugh?
10. How do you want to be remembered?

These are just a few questions to get you going. Think of more. I know it will take time to walk through the process to find the value of you, but it is important! Don’t just sleep walk through your life. Get to know yourself. Voltaire said it so clearly: An unexamined life is not worth living.

Is Hope Real . . . This Time?

Adults told us to dive under our desks, grab the metal legs, and keep our heads down. This action was to protect us from The Bomb. On another occasion we were let out of school early and were told to go directly home. The object was to time our trip home so our teachers would know exactly how long it took to get home in case of a bombing.

Then . . .

We were told Cuba had missiles aimed at us and ready to fire. Where was Cuba? Why did they want to hurt my friends and family? I didn’t even know what a missile was, but I could tell it scared all the adults.

This president would frequently come on the black & white television and make us feel like everything was safe and going to be okay. His speaking taught me a new word, inspired. He had a way of speaking that caused you to well-up inside with hope.

At a different time he encouraged the whole country with his confidence that we could send a person to the moon. To the moon! What an incredible thought. He also called on everyone to give their time and talent to help others. He started a group called the Peace Corps to reach out to help those in need. His sincerity took the fear out of diving under my desk and made me believe the world was full of possibilities.

Then . . .

My principal came into my classroom, whispered into my teacher’s ear, and she started to cry. Was it the bomb? No. It was my president. Someone had killed him and we were sent home. Children and adults across the land went home and sat in front of their television for days.

Darkness spread over the landscape. Sadness and grief was the norm for a long time. I’m not sure it ever really went away, just settled deep inside.

Life moved on, but slowly.

Years later, the president’s brother, Robert, decided to run for president. There was a memory of the inspiration we had once known, the hope, and the challenge to be more. Robert came through my hometown on a train. The train stopped and as he spoke from the back of it the mood of the crowd was electric, his speech was rousing, and our enthusiasm and hope for the future was high.

Then . . .

Two days later, after his acceptance speech at the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angles, he was shot while leaving the building through the kitchen area.

This series of events spanned the time from my second grade class to high school and set in place my lack of hope in all things political. This lack has only been reinforced over the years with Watergate, Iran -Contra, White House intern scandals, Iraq war, and on and on. Whatever party is in office seems to become haughty and makes stupid mistakes while the other party only points fingers and declares this is the worst leader ever. My conclusion is they are both wrong and much more alike than different perhaps just two sides of the same coin. I have become a member of the disillusioned majority. You don’t hear from us very often because we are busy going about our jobs, raising our families, taking care of parents that are aging, and just living.

And Now . . .

We are facing a new presidential season. Hope is in the air. Will this time be different? My hope is it’s just more words from adults telling us to dive under our desks for safety. I want real hope to be demonstrated. May it be so.