An unSuNg ChriSTmaS hERo

My mind has been wandering again. Reminiscing on Christmases past (particularly one from about 25 years ago. More on that in a later entry) and other holiday thoughts. As I drive at night, I look at all the lights and I've been listening to music and talks and articles all to get me in the holiday spirit. Believe it or not, I really struggle with that. Getting in, and keeping the Christmas spirit, I mean. I love Christmas. I really do. But for some reason I also have a hard time. I love the lights especially. I love those people who go MORE than all out. Once upon a time I wanted to be one of those people. At our house we have lights up. Modest, but they're there. We have a ton of decorations up inside the house though. There are reindeer, snowmen, Santas, elves, and a tree loaded with everything from Raggedy Ann to Derek Jeter, Rapunzel to Captain America, and Tigger to Tron.

One thing that Ann has insisted on though is that there is one room in our house where Santa, Frosty, Rudolph, and the Grinch are not permitted. In this room there are mangers, stars, and wise men. There is also a small Charlie Brown tree with a single red bulb.  Now, I know what you’re probably thinking. “Hey, Charlie Brown is the same as Frosty or the Grinch.”  But this tree is an unsung hero of the Christmas season in my humble opinion, and there is a great message to be learned from it. Charlie Brown is depressed because he can't seem to feel the spirit of the season. (remind you of anyone?)  He knows where it's NOT, but not where it IS. His friends all seen to have the answers and even his dog Snoopy know what Christmas time is for. Jingle Bells, lights, pageants, “win[ing] money, money, money” and beautiful metal Christmas trees. Nothing seems to be working for him (as usual) and so he goes to buy a nice tree to help set the mood. And he comes back with the tree you all know. 

Do you remember WHY he picks the tree he does?? "This little tree needs me." He also says that it seems to need a home. So he buys the little tree and brings it back to his friends and they immediately call him stupid, and tell him what a blockhead he is for buying THAT tree. Charlie Brown still thinks it can be a great tree. He sees what the tree can become. He sees what no one else seems to be able to. He still doesn't know what that tree needs, but he knows it needs something and he's going to do whatever he can for it. He walks off with the tree and decides to decorate it. He decorates it with a single red bulb and as soon as he does, it “dies”. Charlie Brown is crushed.

Then the story with the tree switches to Linus. Earlier in the show his sister, Lucy, threatens to hit him if he doesn't get rid of his blanket, but even under threat of bodily harm, he won't give it up. Now, when he sees the little tree needs love, he gives up the one thing in the world that means the very most to him. The thing he loves above all other things. And he does it almost instantly and without any thought or prodding. When he gives the tree THAT kind of love, it's able to not only support the one red bulb, but it truly becomes what it's meant to be. All of a sudden, everyone sees the tree as it is truly meant to be. I think there is a great deal of symbolism in that little moment. Because of that little tree, not only does Charlie Brown find the meaning of Christmas, but all his friends do as well.

Instead of focusing on what they WANTED, Charlie Brown and Linus focused on someone's [the tree’s] NEEDS. Charlie Brown sees that the tree can be beautiful and Linus realizes what it needs to become that way. Maybe we should celebrate Christ’s birth the way he LIVED his life. Find someone that has a need. Find someone that needs a little extra love. Find your own little tree.

ResT IN PeaCe

My mind is been going all over the place today. The death of a friend will do that. It wasn't a close friend, in fact I had never met him. He was part of the Comic Geek Speak crew and community.  His name is Jamie D. His name is adorning my Facebook wall like no other name has. I think that says a lot about the man. Most of these have the term "rest in peace," or RIP for short. We've all seen or wrote those letters hundreds of times. Today however, I've been thinking about the words that they represent. Unfortunately, Jamie's story is not unique. Jamie passed away today after a five-year battle with cancer. The type of cancer doesn't matter, the treatment he sought doesn't matter, the results are still the same. He wasn't the first to die from cancer, nor, sadly, will he be the last. People die from it every day. When you hear people talk about loved ones who have passed away from this disease, it's usually with words like, "he lost his battle" those words are usually very very accurate. And that brings me to the letters.

R I P

As I said before, we see those letters all the time, and we know the words they represent. Today though, I guess I have a deeper understanding of their meaning.

REST - I think of times that I have done anything strenuous. Whether it be hiking, swimming, working in the yard, playing sports, or anything else that wears you out. There's nothing like sitting down to rest. It's amazing how good it makes your body feel. Even just after a long day, there's something special about flopping on the couch or crawling in bed, and resting. I don't think however, that Jamie, or anyone else who happens to be suffering from that horrible disease, especially those in the final stages, did much resting. He may have been in bed, but I doubt he was getting a good rest. There's that "battle," remember. It doesn't call a "cease fire" when someone is laying there in bed. In fact, by then it's raging more fiercely than ever.

IN PEACE - A few days ago I was in a hotel. I was lying in bed. I was "resting" but it was not very peaceful. The people in the next room were noisy. Like, really noisy. The television was loud, the talking was loud, all of that. It's hard not to hear it in hotels. I also think about times when I wasn't feeling good. Like when you lay down when you're having an upset stomach. You're trying to rest, but if anything but peaceful. And there are times I've been in the most peaceful of surroundings, such as in the mountains, and sweating and breathing heavy because of how hard I'm working. It's very hard to really rest in a non peaceful environment.

REST IN PEACE - I guess maybe that's why this is the sendoff we give to people who passed away. They have, as Paul said, fought the good fight. They deserve rest… In peace. No more battles to fight. No more mountains to climb. No more struggles to overcome. Those are the things left to us, left to the living. What we wish for a loved one when they pass, is a rest, and peace. So to you, Jamie D, to all those whose race is over, to all whose battle is finished, to all whose time has come, I say simply rest in peace.

Rest ... In Peace.

mOre Than juSt lOOKIng FOrWArD

     My grandpa Montgomery was a great example to me in a lot of ways and I learned a great deal from him. He taught me the importance of hard work. He use magic to entertain us. And I never doubted his love of the gospel. And, to be honest, there are lessons he taught me that every time I think of, I smirk. There is one lesson he taught me, however, that I think about every single time that I mow my lawn.

     When my grandpa was still alive he had a nice garden out behind their house. Each summer we grandchildren would help him with different chores. Some of us helped a lot more than others. I helped build walls, plant seeds, pull weeds, and irrigate each week. (though often that latter activity turned into a giant water fight with me and my friends.)

     Each spring we would get grandpa's small tractor and get the garden ready by tilling, disking and plowing. Once the ground was ready, we would dig the trenches for watering. I remember the year the grandpa finally let me drive the tractor for this part.  As I drove up the garden trying to dig the trench, I would look back to see if the plow was still in the dirt, then look back ahead. As any of you who would've ever tried this know, that's not the way to make a straight row, and mine was anything but straight. Grandpa told me, "stop looking behind you and look ahead."

     I tried that, and my next couple rows were a little better. But still far from straight. That's when he taught me the lesson. He said "Brian, you can't just look right in front of the tractor. You have to have a goal insight."  He pointed up to the top of the garden where the ditch was that would have the irrigation water in it and the small floodgates that would let water go down each trench in the garden. He said "do you see where the floodgates are?" I told him I did. He said "keep your eyes on the floodgate that you're going to. If you do that, your rows will be straight." I tried what he'd suggested, and I'll be darned if he wasn't right. My next row was nearly straight. It wasn't as perfect as grandpa's row, but it was so much better than my first. And, within the next couple of tries, I had it down. My rows were straight. Every time. I still think about that lesson every time I'm all my lawn. I pick a spot on the fence and I go towards it. I make a straight line, and I think about my grandpa, and I smile.

     In our lives, we can learn a lot from my grandpa taught me that day. If we are constantly looking behind us, will never see where were going, and our paths will veer from where we want it to be every single time.  If we're looking directly in front of us, we can still lose our way. However, when we have a goal in sight, when we look at where we want to end up, our lines are straight and true. A momentary glance right in front of us to be aware of obstacles is okay, as long as you quickly move your eyes back to your goal. The scriptures teach us of a straight and narrow path, and whenever I hear that, I think of grandpa and I appreciate the meaning a little more. I think that lesson he taught.  "Keep your eyes on where you want to go, and you get there." The way may indeed be narrow, but with your eyes on your goal, your row will be straight. Thanks, Grandpa!

PractICE DoesN'T maKe PerFEct

I left home again yesterday. I do this every month. Leaving I mean.  And thankfully, it doesn't get any easier.  I've had this job for over 15 years now, and this particular part of it for three.  Over the past three years I leave the first of every month and I'm gone for two weeks. Away from my wife, kids, friends, family and everything else from back home. While I'm away, I'm very busy. There are early days and late nights and long hours. But, when I sit down to think about it, I'm grateful for that. You see, when I'm busy it's harder to be homesick. You'd think after all this time that I wouldn't get home sick, but you'd be wrong. It's always nice to enjoy Sunday relaxing in the hotel, but those are also the days when I get the bluest. If not for a phone call the home, I could go the entire day and never make a sound. Conversely though, if not for that phone call home, I could go in entire day and never hear a sound. Never hear the sound of my wonderful wife's voice. Never hear my children. I love my job. I mean, I really do. I love dealing with people, being on the road, seeing new places, and everything else that is involved in my job. However, being on the road and being away from my family are two different things. I tell people that all the time. If traveling wasn't two weeks at a time, the way used to be, I’d love this job even more. Maybe someday.  Maybe.  Someday. Until that day arrives though, this is reality. Two weeks away, two weeks at home, two weeks away, etc.  Saying goodbye to the family never gets easy no matter how often I do it. And I pray it never does!