It is said that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
A story is told of two men, both seriously ill, who occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window. The other man had to spend all of his time flat on his back.
The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation.
Every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.
The man in the other bed began to live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.
One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man couldn't hear the band - he could see it, in his mind's eye, as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words.
Days and weeks passed. One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.
As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone. Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall. The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate to describe such wonderful things outside there window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall.
The blind gentleman found beauty despite not being able to see. How many of us choose to ignore the beauty all around us despite the ability to see? How many of us choose to make the world a little more beautiful, a little more livable to those who can’t see for themselves?
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Beauty...
It is said that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
A story is told of two men, both seriously ill, who occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window. The other man had to spend all of his time flat on his back.
The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation.
Every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.
The man in the other bed began to live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.
One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man couldn't hear the band - he could see it, in his mind's eye, as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words.
Days and weeks passed. One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.
As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone. Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall. The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate to describe such wonderful things outside there window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall.
The blind gentleman found beauty despite not being able to see. How many of us choose to ignore the beauty all around us despite the ability to see? How many of us choose to make the world a little more beautiful, a little more livable to those who can’t see for themselves?
A story is told of two men, both seriously ill, who occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window. The other man had to spend all of his time flat on his back.
The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation.
Every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.
The man in the other bed began to live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.
One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man couldn't hear the band - he could see it, in his mind's eye, as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words.
Days and weeks passed. One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.
As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone. Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall. The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate to describe such wonderful things outside there window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall.
The blind gentleman found beauty despite not being able to see. How many of us choose to ignore the beauty all around us despite the ability to see? How many of us choose to make the world a little more beautiful, a little more livable to those who can’t see for themselves?
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Dad...
I have a photo copied article on the wall above my computer. The article is about my Dad. The community I grew up in has a junior college. In the mid 90’s the president of the college wrote a weekly article for the paper. Shortly after my Dad passed away the president wrote the article about my Dad. Dr. Elliot mentioned the almost three decades my Dad invested as a teacher. He mentioned the countless students who were able to earn an Associate’s degree because my Dad took time out of his schedule to help his students understand chemistry and physics. He wrote a lot about how even after my Dad’s retirement, he would go up to the college and visit and encourage his former co-workers.
Every so often I look up at that article and reread what others remember about my Dad. In the article, Dr. Elliot asks these questions: “Did I make a difference? Did I leave this place a little better than I found it?”
At least once a year, I run into someone who took classes from my Dad, and more often than not they say that without his help they would not have passed chemistry of physics. I feel like my Dad left some pretty big shoes to fill. I remember the void he left in my life, and I can only assume to know what kind of void he left in the lives of others… For many my Dad did make a difference in their life. I think Dad did his best to leave our community, the college, and his friends a little better than he found them.
There are times I get overwhelmed, I look at all the things he did in his life for his students, his friends, his co-workers, and then I look at my own life… I will admit I have a little pity party for myself. I feel that I should be doing more with my life, that I should be impacting more people, that I should be able to see that I am making a difference… And then a moment of clarity comes and the party’s over. I remember that those were my Dad’s shoes to fill, not mine. I have my own shoes to grow into, to live into. All those good things I remember my Dad doing, those were his gifting’s, those were the things that brought meaning to his life. He was living into the man God made him to be. If I measure myself by what he did, I will never grow into the man God made me to be. If I try to fill my Dad’s shoes, whose life will I not touch because I was trying to be William Louis Ellerbrook instead of being Louis William Ellerbrook?
God makes each of us unique, and has given us different gifting’s and passions. Our families help us to grow up, to teach us, to love us… Live in your own life. Live into the person God made you to be. The world needs you. Not you trying to be someone else.
Every so often I look up at that article and reread what others remember about my Dad. In the article, Dr. Elliot asks these questions: “Did I make a difference? Did I leave this place a little better than I found it?”
At least once a year, I run into someone who took classes from my Dad, and more often than not they say that without his help they would not have passed chemistry of physics. I feel like my Dad left some pretty big shoes to fill. I remember the void he left in my life, and I can only assume to know what kind of void he left in the lives of others… For many my Dad did make a difference in their life. I think Dad did his best to leave our community, the college, and his friends a little better than he found them.
There are times I get overwhelmed, I look at all the things he did in his life for his students, his friends, his co-workers, and then I look at my own life… I will admit I have a little pity party for myself. I feel that I should be doing more with my life, that I should be impacting more people, that I should be able to see that I am making a difference… And then a moment of clarity comes and the party’s over. I remember that those were my Dad’s shoes to fill, not mine. I have my own shoes to grow into, to live into. All those good things I remember my Dad doing, those were his gifting’s, those were the things that brought meaning to his life. He was living into the man God made him to be. If I measure myself by what he did, I will never grow into the man God made me to be. If I try to fill my Dad’s shoes, whose life will I not touch because I was trying to be William Louis Ellerbrook instead of being Louis William Ellerbrook?
God makes each of us unique, and has given us different gifting’s and passions. Our families help us to grow up, to teach us, to love us… Live in your own life. Live into the person God made you to be. The world needs you. Not you trying to be someone else.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Out of the nest
It seems everywhere my family and I have gone over the past few weeks we have seen a baby bird on the ground. Now I assume that the majority of these little guys were blown out of their nests. However, I wonder if there were not a few who were gently kicked out of their nest.
For a bird, I assume, a nest is a comfortable place. It is where family is. It is where food is brought to them. It is a place where they have everything they need, at least for the first part of their life… But there comes a time when they must leave the nest, they must learn to fly; they must begin learning new lessons outside the nest that will help prepare them to have their own little bird family in the future.
Two weeks ago I had my first phone meeting with a coach that I have been assigned. This is not a coach that will get my body in shape, though I probably need one of those. This is a coach to help push me out of my comfort zones. To help me wade through the stuff I deal with. He is there to help me begin asking the right questions, and point me to resources to help move in the right direction. Most of the things my coach and I have discussed are things I have wanted to do, I have been planning to do. But when there is another person asking about how this or that is going, or how such and such is coming along, there is a bit more urgency to make progress, to show some movement in these areas…
Many of us need that urgency in our lives to begin. When I was around 5 my Mom babysat 2 kids. They had a pool at their house. I stayed in the shallow end of the pool, mainly because I became pretty nervous around that deeper end. One day the older boy (he was about 5 years older than I was) threw me into the deep end. I did not have time to think about how I really did not know how to swim, or what the proper swim stroke might be to get myself out of this jam (even if I had known any)… The only thought in my head was, get your head above the water. Once that was accomplished, the next objective was to keep it above the water. There was an urgency to get those things done. Once those first two objectives were met, things weren’t so bad. The scary end of the pool was not so scary any more.
Sometimes we find ourselves out of our comfort zone. We may have been blown out of our comfort zone where we have to learn to live where we find ourselves. We may be gently, or not so gently, kicked out of our nest to begin learning new lessons for life. We may have someone come along side us to help us to begin asking the right questions, moving in the right direction and encouraging us to take the next step to move forward. Or we may just have some bigger kid think it’s time for us to sink or swim… Sometimes we can resist being taken out of our comfort zone, other times we don’t have a choice. Either way, we need to learn what we can today so that we can continue to move forward tomorrow.
For a bird, I assume, a nest is a comfortable place. It is where family is. It is where food is brought to them. It is a place where they have everything they need, at least for the first part of their life… But there comes a time when they must leave the nest, they must learn to fly; they must begin learning new lessons outside the nest that will help prepare them to have their own little bird family in the future.
Two weeks ago I had my first phone meeting with a coach that I have been assigned. This is not a coach that will get my body in shape, though I probably need one of those. This is a coach to help push me out of my comfort zones. To help me wade through the stuff I deal with. He is there to help me begin asking the right questions, and point me to resources to help move in the right direction. Most of the things my coach and I have discussed are things I have wanted to do, I have been planning to do. But when there is another person asking about how this or that is going, or how such and such is coming along, there is a bit more urgency to make progress, to show some movement in these areas…
Many of us need that urgency in our lives to begin. When I was around 5 my Mom babysat 2 kids. They had a pool at their house. I stayed in the shallow end of the pool, mainly because I became pretty nervous around that deeper end. One day the older boy (he was about 5 years older than I was) threw me into the deep end. I did not have time to think about how I really did not know how to swim, or what the proper swim stroke might be to get myself out of this jam (even if I had known any)… The only thought in my head was, get your head above the water. Once that was accomplished, the next objective was to keep it above the water. There was an urgency to get those things done. Once those first two objectives were met, things weren’t so bad. The scary end of the pool was not so scary any more.
Sometimes we find ourselves out of our comfort zone. We may have been blown out of our comfort zone where we have to learn to live where we find ourselves. We may be gently, or not so gently, kicked out of our nest to begin learning new lessons for life. We may have someone come along side us to help us to begin asking the right questions, moving in the right direction and encouraging us to take the next step to move forward. Or we may just have some bigger kid think it’s time for us to sink or swim… Sometimes we can resist being taken out of our comfort zone, other times we don’t have a choice. Either way, we need to learn what we can today so that we can continue to move forward tomorrow.
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