Category: gratitude

By our love

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I couldn’t get back to sleep because of an earworm — “They’ll Know We Are Christians By Our Love.” It’s actually a pleasant melody and thought to “haunt” a person at 3 o’clock in the morning.

I wasn’t feeling unusually haunted or troubled, other than my typical self-chastisement for not getting work done. I was lying awake for no other reason than “They’ll Know We Are Christians By Our Love” kept playing in my head over and over — just the melody because all I know of the lyrics is the song title. It’s a simple and catchy tune with the simple, catchy and haunting theme that I keep returning to.

I thought about the “why” of what’s happening in the world, or perhaps the “why not.” Why do people who want to manipulate other people double down on fear and anger and outrage and hate — the mean campaign ads, and the nasty political accusations that border on falsehood or are outright falsehoods?

“Why not? It works.” Mean and nasty politicians keep getting elected and re-elected. But why does it work? Why are everyday folks so willing to succumb to fear and anger and outrage and hate and lies?

Why? Because they reject the message that we should love God — they treat God as if he doesn’t exist, or act as if — and love our neighbors, recognizing that everyone we meet is a neighbor.

“They Will Know We Are Christians By Our Love.”

Why reject the message of Christ? I suppose one could say that Christians can act out of fear and anger and outrage and hate as much as anyone else, so why do I point out the speck in a non-Christian’s eye while ignoring the logs in Christians’ eyes? Wait, I ought to notice that Jesus was focusing on the log in an individual’s eye — in my eye.

The only fear and anger and outrage and hate I can control is my own. I might feel the sting of your fear and anger and outrage and hate, but I can’t do anything about what’s in your heart and mind and soul. My own heart, mind and soul, however — those I can deal with.

I may never be able to explain why you fear or hate me — perhaps not me personally, but people who think and believe like me — but I can treat you with as much love as I can muster. They may be laws, to love God and love my neighbor, but I can’t (and don’t want to) force you to follow the law. When I finally yield to those two laws, there is no inclination to force at all — only love.

Why don’t others see the joy and peace that come from choosing to love? I suppose they see others who profess Christ who seem to live by the same principles of fear and anger and outrage and hate that pervade our world’s culture. I come back to the things that I can control, and I can’t even make my fellow Christians live by Christ.

“They’ll know I am a Christian by my love.”

That’s why I could not sleep, I think — because I know I am not loving with all my heart and all my mind and all my soul. It does me no good to lament a world where millions and billions seem to be living in fear and anger and outrage and hate, not if I don’t have love.

I write about the fruits of the Spirit all the time, but there’s a reason the first fruit on the list is love. I can preach joy and peace and kindness and all the rest until the cows come home, but if I don’t say it with love, I’m no better than a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.

When I say it with love, maybe others will see my joy and my gentleness and my kindness and think, “I could use some of that.” And as more of us begin to treat our neighbors with such love, we might change the world. It can’t happen by force, and it can’t happen quickly — only one heart, mind and soul at a time.

Another Players triumph

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I wish we had gone to see “Ring of Fire: The Music of Johnny Cash” a little earlier, so I could shout from the rooftops that you should see this show, because by the time this post appears there will only be two performances left, and at least one of them was already sold out when I bought our tickets for Thursday night’s performance. The good news is that means they didn’t need my help to spread the word about how excellent this show is.

I have always loved coming to Peninsula Players, the professional summer troupe that stages five shows every season along the shores of Green Bay just south of Fish Creek. I consider it the premier event in a county that is full of amazing productions every summer. This was the first time Mary and I went there together, and it just may be the best show I’ve ever seen at the Theatre in the Garden.

Five actor/musicians — Joe Casey, Aja Alcazar, Trevor Lindley Craft, James David Larson, and Paul Wyatt — tell the story of the Man in Black through his songs, seamlessly trading instruments and roles in a dazzling display of fivefold virtuosity. I wish I could see it again. In the future when we meet someone else who caught a performance, we will exchange a smile and a knowing glance that we experienced something special.

Highlights: In “Daddy Sang Bass” the performers took turns playing the instruments and singing parts, each showing their prowess on guitar, bass, mandolin and banjo without dropping a note anywhere.

I got goosebumps during “Delia’s Gone,” a solo performance with Larson alone in the spotlight wrenching every bit of pathos and humor from one of Cash’s creepiest songs, and with Alcazar’s mournful wail in “Sweet Bye and Bye,” the song that marked the death of Cash’s 14-year-old brother. As the only woman in the cast, she had to represent Cash’s mother, first wife, and second wife June Carter through the course of the evening, and she pulls it off admirably.

The players unveil “Moon Over Buffalo” on Wednesday, playing through Sept. 6, and then “Murder Girl” Sept. 9 through Oct. 18. Find the details at peninsulaplayers.com.

The 13-year-old

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When Dejah Thoris, Princess of Mars, had been ours for about a month, we noticed that she wouldn’t stop eating stuff in the back yard: pebbles, sticks, mulch, grass, you name it. Our vet, who performed emergency surgery, said some of the sharp sticks could have done all sorts of damage in there, from perforating organs to obstructing everything.

When she was a year or two old, she suddenly had trouble just standing up to walk. It was Lyme disease, which recurred a few years later and for which she still tests positive even though she has fully recovered.

Dejah — who got that name because I wanted to have an excuse to tell people to watch the wrongly maligned Andrew Stanton near-masterpiece John Carter — has defied expectations. Her big sister Willow The Best Dog There Is™ died a few days shy of her 12th birthday, so when I took 11-year-old Dejah to the vet for an issue I no longer remember, I asked about her chances.

“I don’t see any reason she won’t make it to her 12th birthday just fine,” said the vet.

Today, Dejah turns 13.

Except for the five months between Willow’s death and the arrival of puppy Summer, the poor thing has always played second fiddle. I bonded with Willow closer than any other canine in my life, and puppies always demand more attention than the old dog, so I have probably never given Dejah all of the consideration she deserves.

She doesn’t seem to mind. She accepts what belly rubs and ear scratches that she can gather, she is always up for a treat — they are prescription diet treats these days and not the well-known brands — and she gleefully wrestles with Summer for possession of the throw rug, which is probably the hardiest bit of home decor ever manufactured.

Never mind that she spends most days lying on her back having a good, pleasant snooze anymore; that most nights she gets up at least once or twice to go out in the back yard (heck, so do I); and most of the time it’s a bit of a struggle to stand up (again, me too).

Dejah Thoris, Princess of Mars, is a survivor with a big golden retriever smile. When I mentioned that I was writing about this old dog for today, Mary said, “I have a feeling this won’t be her last birthday.”

I’ve never had a 14-year-old golden retriever. Heck, I never had a 12-year-old before last August, and today, Dejah is 13. We’ll take it one day at a time, perhaps for 365 more.