Yesterday Isn’t Soon Enough

I’m amazed how one person will come along at the right time with one word that will re-direct and change us. Many times we’re not there emotionally to take a well-meaning friend’s advice. We really don’t want their advice. We want to talk about the problem. Sometimes we’re so stuck we can’t move, but it’s what we need to hear. Then one day we take the advice, and wish we had used it sooner. We realize, yesterday isn’t soon enough.

I passed some thoughts along to a couple of people this week. They all seemed to need it, but its up to them to filter it though and know if it’s good advice for them. One thing I passed along was something given to me by a friend in 1986. I’ve never forgotten it. I was in an art business relationship with another person. We were both movers and shakers and it felt like a perfect match. We met one another selling art for a national Art company and decided to go into business for ourselves.

Not too soon into the business, I realized we didn’t operate the same way. Our standards were different in the way we handled money and the way we worked. The partnership wasn’t going to last. It was a matter of time before it would collapse.

To get out was going to be hard. A client said to me at the time, “It’s like a divorce, yesterday isn’t soon enough.” I took his advice. It’s what I needed to hear. It saved me a lot of un-needed pain. Sometimes we are trapped and someone sheds new light so we can move forward.

Another friend said to me, “Don’t confuse pride with honor.” I passed this advice on to someone who said to me, “It’s the honorable thing to do.” It sounded right, until I remembered the nugget of truth I heard from my friend who stayed in business when he needed to get out. He owed everyone and spiraled downward into further debt. He learned a valuable lesson. Years later he’s still recovering from a financial debt. Today, he sees his judgment call was out of pride. Yesterday he saw it as honor.

All this advice is tailored made for the right person at the right time. When My Sweet Al and I decided to get married, several people gave their advice and said it wouldn’t last. We got married anyway. Into the marriage after ten years, friends said we should throw in the towel, but here we are. After thirty years, we decided to call a truce and not try to fix each other. Now at fifty-six years into this marriage, it seems to be working. I think we’ve got a good chance of making it if Al will just behave himself.

My daughter called from California this week. She said, “You were right. Truth is like a rock in your shoe. It hurts until you do something about it. I used your advice and did something about a situation. I feel free and have so much peace.” Wow! My child heard me? She took my advice.

I learned a word in Greek, which I’ve shared with several people. The Bible says it’s impossible but offenses will come. The word offenses, in the Greek, means skandalon. It’s where we get the word scandal.

Skandalon is a piece of wood, which holds up a trapdoor and comes down when a creature hits it and is trapped inside.

I wondered how many times we’ve used our words and unsolicited advice to help someone, but instead hit the piece of wood and trapped them inside their situation. What we thought was good advice was scandalous for them. They are captured by something we said.

Final Brushstroke! We’ve got to be careful not to trap others with our words. On the flip side, a word fitly spoken can open a door and set someone free. I don’t think we are wise enough to know how our words are affecting someone else. It’s got to be a God thing. We need to have the wisdom from above to know the difference.

Free Help –Digging worms for pay

If the readers of this column remember from a previous article, Al was determined to get his Kubota tractor and I was determined to have my own garage. As you read this article the garage is being built, My Sweet Al is driving his Kubota around the property and the old blue truck is still in the yard. Some people can’t be budged like some of those big rocks.

While building on this garage, I’ve jumped through a lot of hoops and over a lot of hurdles. I’ve uncovered things I didn’t know about, which held up the process. I made people mad, and I’ve had to take the high road on a few things. I’m still pushing toward having a garage and a nice yard.

The garage is under construction and now I’ve shifted to yard work. I need Al’s Kubota. I’ve got big plans for him and his tractor, and he has big plans for my garage. I said at the beginning, my garage is my garage.

Al has plans for a workbench and other things in my garage. I told him his old vehicles would not be allowed to drip oil on my concrete floor. And none of his junk will be in my garage. These are empty threats, and he knows it. Talk as big as I want, reality sets in. The garage will be what it needs to be.

My Sweet Al and I work in the yard between rains. I’m terracing big rocks down to our pond and he’s on his Kubota moving dirt. He and his tractor do the work of ten men. He feels the power of the tractor under him, and I feel the weight of the rocks. I instruct him to back up and move the big rocks for me. He backs up while looking forward. I dodge the swinging backhoe and yell, “Stop. You caught my sweater in the backhoe.”

He didn’t hear me over the roaring motor and he drags my sweater around the yard. Thank God, I wasn’t in my sweater.  He took off one of the porches on my cabin. Thank God, I wasn’t under the porch. Those rocks don’t move easily, but I have learned to move quickly.

Men love the roar of motors. I don’t know what it is? I think it gives them a sense of playing in the dirt with cars. You’ve seen how little boys run their miniature cars up and down the sofa arm and make loud noises. That’s the picture I get while Al runs up and down the pond bank and I stay out of his way. I need his tractor, and I have no intentions to learn how to drive it. So I make the most of it, and give him a margin for error.

I told him it was time to get off the tractor and help me put down landscape fabric. I picked up the fabric and said, “No, don’t do it that way.”

He yelled back, “Hold the corner. You are folding it the wrong way. You’re so left handed.”

I told him, “I know how to fold material. Hold the fabric like this.”

Our youngest daughter came over to sunbathe. Al dropped the fabric and said, “I’m taking off for a couple of hours and sunbathe with Angel.”

Not the thing to say. I gave Al a look. He knows the look. “No, Al. I’m here to work, if you must sun, take off your shirt and get a tan while you work.”

He said, “We’re losing sun.”

I said, “Oh really? It’s10 o’clock in the morning. You can sun this afternoon. I need you and your tractor now.”

It’s free help when you can get it and sometimes I wrangle the family into helping. I enticed our daughter by telling her I would save her the worms. She loves to fish with her Dad.

I made sure to show her the worms and I counted them as I shoveled up dirt. It kept her mind focused on the work. I got a couple extra hours worth of work from Al.  He got sunburned on his back, and he’s red as a beet. Our daughter got her worms and they made plans to go fishing. I got a lovely terrace by the pond. All is well.

Next project my art cabins. They need repaired and painted. With one porch torn off by the tractor, I need Al’s help. For Mother’s Day I ordered myself a motorized Zoom Paint Gun for My Sweet Al to paint my cabins. I let him look at it in the box. He thinks it will be fun. I’ll let him think that, but I’ve got my eye on thirty shutters on the cabin windows and five doors. It’s a big job, hopefully I can stay out of the way and not wear the paint.

Whether we’re building a marriage, a garage or painting cabins, we still talk. We might trade worms for work, or sun for backbreaking rock moving, but the work gets done. I let My Sweet Al think he gets to park his Kubota in my new garage.

Final Brushstroke! Al and I have learned to work together. He knows I can talk as big as I want, but he’ll have his stuff in my garage by the end of the day. What is mine is his, and what is his is mine when it’s all said and done. It’s learning how to move the rocks and deal with the hard places.

A Bag with Wheels

A bag with wheels! No, I’m not talking about a bag lady who pushes a shopping cart down the street. I’m talking about a Greek scholar and a new Black Book Bag with Wheels.

My friend and I have stuck to the class and we’re in our second year of Greek Studies. We have acquired more books, and we use every one of them. The bags have gotten heavier.

The handle broke on hers and she showed up this week with the latest little black bag on wheels. For myself, I was carrying two big bags. Al would transport them to the car before I left for class and I struggled to get them into the classroom. The teacher’s still carries his Greek books in cardboard boxes.

When I saw my friend’s new bag, I had to have one. Now I can answer the phone with, “Have Greek, Will Travel, Have Bag will Go, or Make Room for the bag with wheels.” My friend answers her phone with, “Greek Central on Wheels.”

We wonder why our teacher has hung in there with us. We can’t believe the three of us are still in this class. It’s a miracle. This second book is harder than the first one. When I start to study, my mind shuts down. I find I have to lie down and take a nap. My friend says she now takes naps, too.

My Sweet Al said, “A Penny for your thoughts.”

I told him, “Transitive and intransitive verbs and the Greek word, ego eimi. I AM. This intransitive verb stands alone, it doesn’t require an object. The word is like it’s in it’s own world and it carries itself.”

He had asked me, and I gave him more than a penny’s worth. I gave him a little Bible study.

He said, “I know that. I know about I AM He.”

I said, “No you don’t, it’s more powerful than you think. The word ‘He’ isn’t in the original language. We’ve added it to the Bible.”

I could tell I lost him. He picked up the newspaper, but I couldn’t stop. I was on a roll. No pun intended, my Greek books are on wheels, and this bag has no brakes. The subject was getting heavier. “When Jesus was confronted with the soldiers, he set up a scene and asked, “Who are you seeking?”

They said, “Jesus of Nazarene.”

He said, “I AM.” When he said I AM, the soldiers were knocked backwards to the ground. I said to Al, those two words have the power to change men, knock them off their feet. I know the power of those two words. I have experienced many “I AM” moments.

Al wasn’t knocked off his feet by my brilliance, but his eyes glassed over and he looked out the window. I didn’t let that deter me, I continued, “We talk about aha moments, wow moments, and light bulb moments. We’re saying the same thing. We say we are enlightened, we see it differently, and we change our minds. We’re knocked to the ground and we understand a truth. It is an ego eimi moment, an I AM moment.”

Now, Al plays with the dog. I continued. “I had an ego eimi moment in the Greek class this week. With this second Greek book, we have gone from the honeymoon to the marriage. The honeymoon is over. The dirty socks are on the floor, and someone needs to pick them up.

We used to get excited over one little Greek word and we threw it out for everyone to hear. Now, we translate sentences and see deeper into the language and have become more intimate and connected.  We’ve moved into the marriage.

I continued to talk.  Al hadn’t checked in yet. Whiskey, his dog, turned over with all four feet in the air. Al scratches her. Now, Al does the same thing.  He turned over and his feet are in the air. Then he said, “Why do you have to talk Greek all the time?”

I said, “You asked me. You set me up. I think I’m over the honeymoon in Greek. I’ve picked up the socks and the marriage is real. I’ve moved into a deeper relationship with the Lord. I’m having an ‘I AM’ moment.”

I knocked him off his feet and wore him out. He’s used to looking at pictures in The Duck Unlimited Magazine. My Sweet Al has now moved to the bedroom and needs a nap. Greek will do it every time.

 Final Brushstroke! My Sweet Al and I are not reading the same book, but he bought me a black bag with wheels to carry all this heavy knowledge, anyway. Somehow we came to an ‘I AM’ moment together. Our marriage is getting deeper and more meaningful. I don’t know how. It’s a miracle.

Just Hangin’ Around

Graduation is here. It’s funny about living, planning, preparing for life, and ending up in an unknown place called Graduation Day. It doesn’t matter if you seventeen or seventy, high school seniors and senior citizens are pretty much in the same boat.

They are saying goodbye to friends, planning for life, scared to death and excited at the same time about their next step. Both are launching into a bigger world, stepping out of their comfort zone, or just hangin’ around waiting for the next best offer.

That offer for a high school senior is a scholarship for more learning or a small paying job. For the senior citizen, his next best offer might be the pearly gates.

For myself, I feel like the high school senior ready to start a new career. My career hasn’t yet taken off. It doesn’t mean I didn’t give it all the gusto and faith I had on the first go around. I gave my very best shot, but it never felt like I was in the right place at the right time. And, maybe I was. It seemed like God was always interrupting my plans. He was probably sparing me of a lot of stress and problems down the road.

I’ve always chomped at the bit and pulled the tether to its max.  My manuscript and script for a second book are in the hands of an agent and producer. This project could be big and it could be nothing. I’ve learned one thing in life. Don’t get too excited. It might not pan out. There might be something better behind another door.

Some of my senior citizen friends have had plenty of action during their life time and are just hanging around, loving life, smelling the roses, sleeping late, doing lunch, and hiking the mountains of Pagosa. I can’t even imagine that kind of life. I said to one of my friends, “You need a life. You have too much time on your hands. You’re doing a lot of playing.” Then I thought about it and said, “Maybe I’m the one with no life. I keep pushing for deadlines and new projects. You have time to live, I don’t.”

My friend from Arizona wants to ride the Zip line in Hawaii before she leaves this earth. That’s her life’s goal.  I asked her why she didn’t have an important goal like writing a bestseller? She looked at me as if to say, “Why would I want to do that?”

And there are some senior citizens who are hanging it up, and not sure what to do next. It’s like graduating from high school, but they call it retirement. Some have prepared for the next step, and others don’t have a clue about what’s next.

I remember hearing a high school principal say, “After graduation, some of the kids keep coming back the next year and hanging around the halls. They don’t know what to do with them selves. They wanted to leave school, teachers, and authority and now wished they could be back in school.”

I was listening to the commentators speculating on David Lettermen’s retirement. He was an American television host until his last show of 33 years. It was his final night on the set. Friends, fans and celebrities gave their last regards to him and his final show.  The producers were even giving away team jackets for those who would be sharing his last airing.

The biggest question they all asked Letterman was what he was going to do next? Larry King said when he retired he couldn’t stay retired and was fortunate to come back to the show. Jay Leno, television host is worth $350 million, his stand-up comedy tours in the USA could net him an extra $20 million.  He’s doing 200 shows a year. He’s not retiring, just changing jobs.

Analysts were giving their take on Lettermen’s retirement. One said he needed to keep busy, maybe even volunteer part time at a library. Another one said, “You’re not going to see Lettermen as a volunteer at a library.”  But we did catch him on television hanging around the Indy 500 race.  He owns a racecar and was already wearing his racing jacket and has moved into retirement.

Asking Letterman about his retirement, he said he might be like Johnny Carson and drop out of the spotlight.  Johnny Carson reigned over The Tonight Show for 30 straight years. He was considered the greatest television host of all time. He gave a break to Jerry Seinfeld and Drew Carey, who trembled in Johnny's presence and owe their entire careers to his couch.

I thought it was interesting to learn that Johnny Carson was also one of the most privately philanthropic celebrities in the history of Hollywood. A writer writes, “During his lifetime Johnny donated millions of dollars to various charities without seeking an ounce of personal attention or publicity. When Johnny died in 2005 he donated an unknown portion of his net worth to The Johnny Carson Foundation. No one, including the foundation itself, had any idea how large the donation was until 2010 when his lawyer and accountant were required to reveal the full amount in an IRS tax return. To everyone's amazement, Johnny Carson left a surprisingly massive fortune to charity.”

Final Brushstroke! A final word to the graduates of Pagosa High School. Don’t get too uptight about what you’re going to do next. People who have lived sixty years longer than you have are still wondering what to do with their lives.

Some are hangin’ out, some have hung it up and some are left hanging.  Most of us don’t have a clue.  Join the big world of Life. In school, out of school, in the spotlight or out of the spotlight, it’s how you live what you’ve been given and give what you have to give.