So, today I was trying to get all my ducks in a row in regard to my diploma/transcript, etc.  I  called to ask for guidance and the sweet lady told me she would have someone call back.   So, about three hours later, I get a call back from a lady, let's call her 'Doctor Ri." She is a professor at the college.  We were discussing what hoops I needed to jump through to get all this good junk completed, and--as you know since I was part of the conversation--we talked about other things, too.

I was talking about how lacking in organization and practicality I am because I am a free spirit, and that sort of thing (often) is part and parcel with free-spirits. I told her that I got it honestly from my biological mother via DNA  She barely let me finish the statement when she said QUITE firmly, "No. It's all environmental. I'm a sociologist. I should know."   I responded, "Really?  My Daddy got custody of us girls when I was two. I wasn't raised with  her at all, but--in SO many ways--I am just like her. I just presumed that some of that HAD to be genetic."    

It was just a weird interaction.  She clearly has been a teacher (and probably a professor) for many, many years because she is used to her word being law.  In fact, there were several moments in our interaction wherein she was kind of berating/'teaching' me.  By the end of the conversation, she had gotten a bunch cooler. She was very helpful and encouraging about my future plans, etc., but I was so put off by her immediate insistence that the scientific field of DNA had no bearing in how people turn out.  Because, OF COURSE, it cannot be only environment.  I grew up with three siblings. We were all raised in pretty much the same environment, but we have four distinctly different personalities. Many families are the same way. How can she explain that ubiquitous fact?    Just such a weird interaction.

Norman in Summerland

I was finishing up my lunch outside the building where I had been sent, by my boss, to do some annual training. I was staring up at the clouds which were hanging over me in nearly every quadrant of the blue sky above me when I noticed that most of my co-workers were heading back--en masse--to the building, so I gathered up my trash and began heading back myself.

My notebooks and pens were lying just where I left them in the front left section of our tables, so I sat down in the same spot and turned to talk with the person sitting behind me.   

My eyes stopped on an older man standing--with his hands behind his back--in an aisle between two rows of desks. He was wearing a gray cardigan and a pair of glasses. His wispy gray hair sparsely covered his head in just the way I had always remembered it doing. He was glancing around at nearly every student, smiling and nodding when he caught their eyes. I might have even heard him say to one of them, “Get ready! You’ll be taking copious notes this afternoon!”

It took me a moment, but I finally recognized that it was Norman Starling! I smiled because he had recently been in the hospital for serious health reasons. There had been some real concerns that he might not make it. I felt such intense joy to see him there: alive, well, healthy, and back to his old tricks--teaching young people about being decent human beings! He turned and saw me, and then smiled! I’m sure my smile grew much wider and tears started to form in the corner of my eyes. I put my right thumb, forefinger and pinky up in the sign language word for ‘I love you. He began walking up to me and I got out of my chair to meet him. I didn’t say a word. I just hugged him with all my might for several long moments. I felt his arms surround me and pat me on my back. I pulled back a little and looked up at him. I was still smiling (obvs!) and I said, “Norman! I’m so glad to see you. I’m SO glad that you are all right! I was really, really worried for a while there!”

Norman looked down at me, still smiling, and said, “Oh, I’m all right, Loralee. I’m all right.”

Then I awoke from my dream and realized that Norman wasn’t there with me and that he never would be again. He had died about two months before the night I had that dream, but, because our Norman--our friend, our teacher, our Christian leader--had been the godly man we knew him to be, he was, indeed, ‘All Right’ at that very moment. I can’t know for sure, but I’d almost bet he is sitting in Paradise next to Marshall Keeble or Garland Elkins or Carl Garner or Grady Moore or Abraham or the beggar, talking about God and the Bible and all things Good. 

Isaiah 25:8:  “He will swallow up death for all time, and the Lord God will wipe tears away from all faces, and He will remove the disgrace of His people from all the earth; for The Lord has spoken.”

Beyond this Land of Parting

Beyond this land of parting, losing, and leaving

Far beyond the losses, darkening this

And far beyond the taking and the bereaving

Lies a summer land of bliss!

Land beyond, so fair and bright!

Land beyond, where is no night!

Summer land, God is it's light

Oh, happy summer land of bliss!

Beyond this land of toiling, sowing and reaping

Far beyond the shadows darkening this

And far beyond the sighing, moaning, and weeping

Lies a summerland of bliss!

Beyond this land of waiting, seeking, and sighing

Far beyond the sorrows darkening this

And far beyond the pain, and sickness and dying

Lies a summer land of bliss!

Land beyond, so fair and bright!

Land beyond, where is no night! 

Summer land, God is its light

Oh, happy summer land of bliss!

 

Jonestown

22JAN08

 Jonestown

You think you are sipping wine from crystal goblets; pinkies out, diamonds shining at an elite soiree held by the Dean Of Harvard where no one is wearing white because it is well past labor day, but--in reality--you are drinking Kool-Aid out of paper cups with crumpled rims and faded blue flowers stamped on the outside.

You see prosperity, but you are Impoverished and you just keep sipping Kool-Aid.

You think you are eating a five course meal, prepared by the foremost vegan chef in the world, complete with salad, sprouts and soy milk, but--in reality--you are eating the contents of the Folgers can stored underneath the stove that is filled with the bacon drippings from the last five months, followed by a super-sized Big Mac salad.

You see oneness and community, but you are drinking Kool-Aid, Alone and Separated.

You think you are drinking the freshest, crispest, coolest, and cleanest spring water, ladled out, just now, from the very source itself, but--in reality--you are drinking Kool-Aid, and not just any flavor of Kool-Aid, either. You are drinking that disgusting, nasty grape flavor!!! BLECH!! 

You see purity and responsibility and enlightenment, but you are Muddied and Selfish and Confused and you just keep swilling Kool-Aid.

You think you are welcoming health at the gym; muscles bulging, hearts pumping, sweat glistening, but--in reality--you are sitting on a faded couch with the coils sticking out of it; a glass of Kool-Aid sitting on the end table, one hand scratching your hairy, fat belly under a threadbare wife-beater and clutching a drumstick fried in lard in your other one. The shrieks and cries of your 18 children are coming through the torn front screen-door of your mobile home. 

You see health, but you are eating LARD...and slowly dying...and you just keep GULPING Kool-Aid.

I have some water. I’m begging you...Please...come drink some.

Luke 17:1-2