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Disappointments and Difficulties

By John W. Vander Velden

What can I say? The title seems to say it all. But I, like everyone, have faced times when things did not go as I had hoped. And just like you have found myself struggling to deal with things in general.

I was led to thinking on these subjects last month. You see, after a few wonderful days venturing off and around, I came down with COVID. But what made it seem incredibly unfair was that I had endured the virus only thirteen months before. I had followed the guidelines, been vaccinated repeatedly. But alas it was my fate to be exposed and to develop the illness.

Surely you understand I was disappointed and what followed were difficulties dealing with COVID and its aftereffects. Some of those difficulties I continue to face even today.

I will not go over the symptoms and the weakness that has followed. No, this is about a more general topic, the disappointments and difficulties we all face, and how, in the face of them, we can see something positive. For positivity is a choice and so it is up to you and me to see things through a different lens.

I use myself as an example. Ture, I wanted to wallow in self-pity last month, and there are moments I did. There are moments I still do, when stairs seem nearly impossible to climb. But I use these moments as a contrast of what I had before, and realize I took for granted so many gifts that God has given me.

So, I refuse to allow disappointments become a consuming dark cloud, at least for now. But knowing that at present my strength is lacking and the difficulties that might cause, I am driven to fight for recovery, knowing full well that battle will be difficult. So, I find gratitude in the will to endure, in the will to fight on today…tomorrow…and all the days God gives.

So, as I remind myself of life’s joys, of my experiences, those of I enjoy in my present state, as well as those past days, I find the sting of this particular disappointment weaken. When I consider all the difficulties I have endured in the past, and how I had pushed through those problems, I understand nothing of value comes easy. I thank my God for bringing me this far with the confidence that God will take me further, if it is His will.

For though I am disappointed. And yes, once again I face difficulties. But I am not yet beaten.

Therefore, I face the days ahead, and in doing so I find joy in overcoming my disappointments because God has given me the courage to face life’s difficulties. For in the end, I will be a better…stronger…man as a result of the Disappointments and Difficulties I face.

And you can be as well!

(471 Words) 11-24-2023      

Optimism      

By John W. Vander Velden

Optimism leads us toward places we have never been.  It is like a walk on a mountain path.  We do not know what lies before us as we trudge onward toward higher ground.  Yet we go on with hope…the hope of a view that was worth the effort.  When at last we reach the trail’s end, we might be disappointed that trees and rocks prevent the anticipated vista, or we might be awestruck by the grandeur that lies before us.  It is that hope…that optimism…that drove us to walk for miles.  We do not allow the possibility of disappointment to quell our quest. 

Sometimes we have been beaten down again and again.  We feel that life’s climb brings only the strain of forward attempts.  Difficulties surround and hope is hard to maintain.  Those days when optimism seems folly, we should take a breath and remind ourselves the best yet lies before us.  That the path that leads may not at time be easy but is not insurmountable.  Looking forward, head high, striving to do the best we can to reach higher ground.

Optimism, though we might at times fail, is not a waste.  It leads us on and brightens our journey.  For often we reach what we expect.  To those that anticipate failure…failure will surely come.  But those that reach toward lofty desires, will at last find themselves at a place far higher.  Driven by optimism, though they, as everyone, face disappointments, will step by step move up the path toward the peak….

You see the optimist is not foolish enough to believe that troubles or heartaches are avoidable, but knows that in the end when the tally, of good and ill, is completed the sum will fall in their favor.  They see the sun even while it hides behind storm clouds.  They understand you see the rainbow best while getting wet.  They know that any good thing requires hard work.  They prefer to hope for the best rather than anticipate the worse. 

So it comes to each of us and we must choose…are you an optimist? 

(353Words)                        8-31-2015

Each of Us Needs a Purpose

By John W. Vander Velden

Fact is we need a reason to get up every morning. It seems most of our lives we are rushing from one thing to another. It begins when we enter our school years. Looking back I realize that those early years were training for such a large portion of my life. Getting up in the morning stuffing breakfast in my mouth and being ready for the bus to carry me and others to the building that contains us and gave me tasks to accomplish. Yes, I learned that 2 plus 2 equals 4, I learned the difference between a noun and a verb, and all the other information others were certain I needed to know in order to survive.

But the important thing I learned has little to do with the hours of lessons. I learned to schedule my day. For going to school was the purpose I had been given during those years. And was prepared…and longing for the next step when my formal education had been completed. For I like most of you joined another organization. The workforce.

By then I had learned the need of an alarm clock, how to find my own transportation, and how to schedule my week. For some their first job is only one stop of their working career. For me the location changed once, but not the job title.

My years of employment made up a very large portion of my life. But those years were not my complete existence, and a moment came when my working years came to an end. And I found myself among those that God had granted the time and resources to step forward when that moment arrived.

Retirement.

I believe each person has a unique definition of retirement. There are those that plan for the moment when their working life is completed. Others have the end of their career thrust upon them. Forced retirement. And there are others that find themselves unable to carry the burdens of their works obligation. Perhaps it is health issues, or just limitations that age forces upon us. Yet the moment comes when the discipline that had been part of our lives for so long is no longer required. Each faces that moment in their own way.

But even when, for whatever reason a person retires, that person needs a purpose.

When the day came, after forty-five years of farming, I found I had an advantage. Two advantages actually.

One: I had spent many years self-employed. To be successfully self-employed a person needs discipline. There is no one to assign the tasks I would tackle any given day. There was no one that would keep track of the time I started or finished my day. How many days a week I put my “shoulder to the wheel.” Those were among the responsibilities I alone carried. Self-employment has its blessings, but it also has its burdens.

But the discipline that was needed for all those years gives me “a leg up” when I entered retirement.

Two: I am a man of faith. I would hope that would be something I shared with the masses, but I have come to realize that it is not as common as I thought. It seems that over the years the number of people that consider themselves bound to a belief has diminished substantially. So if I consider this connection an advantage, and I understand it is not a benefit shared by everyone.

Having faith provides a deeper view of the world that surrounds me. But my specific faith in God, the Master of the Universe, reminds me daily that nothing is by chance and everything has a purpose. I include myself in that everything. I know I have a purpose for each day. I may not know what today’s purpose is, but understanding that I have a purpose, energizes me to seek what that purpose could be.

I do not fritter away my day staring at a glowing screen across the room. I do watch some TV in the evenings. But I have other things to take up my time. God has given me gifts, shouldn’t I, as long as I have the breath and energy, pursue them? God has placed me in places and circumstances I never envisioned, given me responsibilities I have not sought but must fill. Do I ignore those new obligations for my personal leisure?

The fact is I am too busy. The fact is I cannot carry all the possible purposes that are placed at my feet. But that’s alright. I have sufficient purpose for today…tomorrow too.

Each of us needs a purpose…a reason to get up each morning. I thank God I do!  

 (783 Words) 7-26-2022

Silence?               

By John W, Vander Velden

Silence is never misquoted.

I thought there was wisdom in that phrase. And there is. But the more I thought about it the more I came to understand there is a place for silence and there is place for other actions.

For though we cannot be held accountable for the words unsaid. And there are times when shouting voices are best ignored. Yet there are times when our silence speaks words we should never say…may reinforce actions that we should not condone.

There is a time for silence. Just as the list in Proverbs speaks of a time for all things there is a time when our lips should be sealed. Often verbal attacks directly aimed at our person are best answered with silence. But when those verbal abuses are pointed toward the innocent not speaking on their behalf may not be the best response.

Each of us must decide what we stand for and what response we hope is best. But we must do so prayerfully, trusting our God to help us to choose our words and actions that form the best response to difficult situations.

To direct ourselves, in determining:

What do we stand for?

What do we believe?

What would God want us to do?

What would be the best result possible?

And do we have the courage to stand up and be counted?

The weak are always outnumbered by the loud voices of would be bullies. Do we have the courage to stand with the few, against the many? Do we have the courage to speak the truth when lies are believed by the masses?

There will be times that if we do not stand up…no one will.

Silence is never misquoted. But it not always God’s response!

4-5-2022 (292 Words)

Out of the Darkness

By John W. Vander Velden

I have not been afraid of the dark since I was very small. I recall when I was moved to a larger bed and a room upstairs, that my parents left the hall light on for my benefit. But like I said, that was a long time ago. Of course it would be easy to understand fear of darkness for we all are afraid of what we cannot see, and many things could be lurking within the shadows.

But there are other types of darkness that have the potential to engulf us. And this pitch does not evaporate with the movement of a light switch. There are those that endure within blackness of depression which attempts to suck all the light out of their lives. Many live beneath the stigma of fear and misunderstanding of the condition, and never seek the help they desperately need.

Often those closest to them have no idea of the weight depression places upon their love ones…or the danger. For there are those that live within that blackness who find themselves spiraling downward into a pit whose walls are so slippery that upward movements seem impossible. For them each day is a time of hopelessness and pain. For some the only escape, they may see from this blackness, is suicide.

Their pain is not imaginary. It is not something they can simply ignore. In many cases it is not something that will simply fade with time. And it is not caused by a lack of faith.

Depression is real!

But for many there is help, but it begins with understanding. For those who are near and dear to the depressed are often first to deny its existence. They close their eyes until it becomes too late, then stand confused about the causes of the tragedy that has unfolded at their feet. There are many of those within the darkness that do not recognize the condition they themselves deal with each day.

I do not write these words as a spectator, for I am a participant in the continuous struggle I face. For years I did not recognize or understand the darkness that came and went, the hopelessness, the mental anguish, I lived through. I will not go into the depths of the pit I found myself, or the solutions I considered at those moments within the pitch. It is enough to say that things changed and the darkness has faded. But it never disappeared.

At last someone coaxed me to seek help.

Now I stand in the light, or close enough that I feel its warm optimism. Yet the dark shadows are close enough that I remain constantly diligent, aware of how easily things can tumble in ways unwanted.

Why am I bold enough to admit to this weakness? This disease? Because of the stigma that depression and all forms of mental illness carries opens me to ridicule. But h ow do others find the courage, and it does take incredible courage, to seek the help they need, if I and others do not step forward and say, “I deal with chronic depression…there is hope.”

I have not reached this place on my own. I have not found the courage to live on my own. I owe much to those near me that saw the depth of my illness before I could fully grasp what I was dealing with. Not everyone has the love and support that I was blessed to receive. Open you hearts and arms to help. For each of us know someone, a friend, a loved one, a family member, or a co-worker that is trying to find their way out of the darkness. 

 (609 Words) 3-20-2022

Thirty-Three

By John W. Vander Velden

Thirty-three is an odd number. Not only because the integer is not divisible by two, but it doesn’t quite fit in with others very well. All the same it comes to my mind in several ways. One example. I have a stack of LPs, what are now called vinyls. In the day before CDs became the norm, certainly long before digital music of any kind, long playing records were common. Those platters were spun on turntables rotating at thirty-three and a third revolutions per minute.

Even then the number seemed a bit strange. It was the one third that made it most peculiar. For wouldn’t thirty- three or thirty- four make more sense. Yes, thirty-three and a third times three, which seems like an awful lot of threes, equals one hundred. So why did someone in the know pick thirty-three and change for the speed of a LP. For that matter why had someone picked seventy-eight rpm for the first pressed recording, and forty-five rpms for singles with that silly big center hole?

Who knows?

And in truth, who really cares. It is just some silly thoughts that have passed between my ears as the number thirty-three approaches for a much different reason. For you see thirty-three years is a milestone that Jackie and I have reached.

I can remember a snowy March Saturday. The gray day with thin wisps of snow blowing across US 6 as we went to a church. Much of that morning is lost, for now in a blur of memories faded by thirty-three years. But there are portions of that day I will never forget. Portions of infinite importance to me. Memories of friends, best friends of years shared. Memories of brothers, true friends by blood. I remember a set of clothes I only wore once. I remember waiting, anticipating in front of a room filled with those I had known and loved, and others I have come to love. I remember the music, the emotion, the fear.

At thirty-seven I was no longer a child, but I understood the intensity of the moment I face. How I was about to change my life in a way that could never be undone. I stood with my band of brothers, kin and friends, prepared, I thought, to make a vows to Jackie. Prepared to give more than my life, but also my heart, my future, my everything. Willing to bind my life to this woman who was foolish enough to accept this pitiful person who loved her.

We have shared this life for thirty-three years, and what a ride it has been. There are times when it seems impossible it has been that long. Surely that number is inflated. But when I take the time to look back at what has occured, the places we have seen, the child we raised that is now a man. When I consider and all our triumphs, for there have been several, and remember the tragedies we have endured, then yes, the span of years has been significant.

But anniversaries should not be limited to a rear view of years passed. It also needs to be a time for looking forward. A time of anticipation. No, we do not know what our future holds but we know, that for now, we walk boldly hand in hand. And have confidence we will never be alone, even if the day comes when the two of us becomes the one left behind. For God will never abandon, and love’s cord cannot be severed.  

I have been honored to have shared my life with Jackie. She has been my dearest friend for thirty-three years. Oh she’s not perfect, but she’s my champion. The person I can always count upon. The person that sees more in me than I see in myself. Jackie has helped me rise to places I would never imagine reaching. It is my hope I have aided her assent as well.

In this life we are a team… And as a team, and with God’s help, we stride forward into the next thirty- three years or however many we are given!

(690 Words) 3-17-2022

Today!

By John W. Vander Velden

The strengthening sun has not yet eliminated winter’s last snows from our memory.  Yet each day tells that a new season approaches.  The song of the Redwing verifies that the harshest days have passed.  Each day the Maple buds swell, soon the grand trees will have new attire — dressed among other hardwoods in a thousand shades of green.  And we notice the tiny shoots along the roadsides that have forced their way through the brown mat of last year’s remnants, a certain sign that spring is near. 

Winter has released its last roar and the fullness of the lamb grows with each day.  Seasons come, this we know, but they are forced surrender to the next, the sequence continues.  Each day a stride in the year’s journey.  Each day a unique parcel of a week, a month, a season – of our lives.  The year’s snow may be in our past but those days have shaped our todays and made us, oh so ready, for the new season’s challenges. I will not deny that winter’s harshness brings burdens, but contend those burdens build strength, and make spring the delight we anticipate on those long frigid days.  

From where I stand, between drifting snow and daffodil’s glory, I remember dreary overcast skies, biting wind, and shoveling white stuff, but I can almost hear the robin’s morning herald, smell the apple blossoms fresh scent, and the taste fresh red strawberries sweetness.  Spring is barely beyond my grasp.   So it is difficult to remember that each day, winter’s cold, summer’s heat, fall’s colors or spring’s delights offer challenges and rewards.  That each day contains wonders worthy of our appreciation.  Today is always the best day we have – at the moment.  We should do more than simply hope for finer days, but take our “now” to its upmost. So I wish you, a happy today!

(311 Words)

Foundations

By John W. Vander Velden

For he built a house upon the sand…and the rains came and the wind blew…and that house fell!

We understand the need for a proper foundation, and hope our homes will stand the winds and storms.  For much of construction depends upon the proper beginning.  Often invisible and taken for granted, no matter how impressive an edifice might be, its durability stands literally upon a well laid foundation.  Isn’t the tower of Pisa a prime example, leaning upon a foundation unable to support its weight?

Yet there are other types of foundations, the carefully laid stones that support our lives.  These too may be invisible to others, often overlooked even by us.  We go through our lives, dealing with all the challenges, facing disappointments, accepting recognition for accomplishments great and small, forgetting our origins.  Each person’s life, laid upon stones set by others, a foundation for the life we live.  Those of us fortunate, have our base built upon rock…deep and strong.  Often that bedrock found in the lives of those coming before.  Their example, much more than words, creates a location fit to place the first stones of our lives, a secure site unshakable by life’s storms.

Does that bedrock shield us from all pain and disappointment?  Are we isolated?  Do we live faultless, mistakes impossible?  Is our success inevitable, unable to fail, as we pass through life relying upon the stones laid by others?  No!  A proper foundation does not separate us from life…its ups…its downs.  We must face heartache and disappointments as all others.  But when the storms of life tear into our world…When we are beaten and bruised…When we lose the noble fight…on bedrock we stand and are not overcome!

But that is not the ending, for around us others depend, around us others are watching.  What must be done, for another generation follows, another generation needing proper footing, a footing that can only come from us?  Each day we remember those respected in our past, and we should offer our best.  An example as we teach truths rock solid and aid in the building of the next foundation!

The Days Behind and the Days Ahead

By John W. Vander Velden

I remember a particular birthday. As February opened I recognized that birthday would be a bit different. You see that year I turned ten. I was led to this particular reminiscing because of the birthday I celebrated this week. For you see, once again I had completed a decade.

My family lived in rural central Florida on that birthday long ago. Our family would leave the home we had made in Alachua County less than two weeks later. I’m certain I gave no thought about the fact that in 1962 I had lived a full decade. No, not one. Rather I remember that it was a big deal for my age to gain a digit. For I would be ten.

I have lived a busy life. Hectic at times. Likely you have as well. But like I had in that winter in Florida, I have anticipated the approach of this birthday. But rather that puff my chest out at the idea I would no longer be described by a single place number, I wondered how I have reached this milestone.

For it should be impossible.

I cannot imagine HOW my birthday could be tied to such a large number. So I thought I would work the keyboard as I share with you the thoughts I have in the wake of finishing my seventh decade. As I said before, I thought about the boy of ten. Running over fields, down lanes of deep sand, playing in the nearby creek. Watching out for snakes, Diamond Backs and Cotton Mouth’s were too common. But growing up those years in that country had taught us where we could go and where we shouldn’t.

But even that boy of ten had lived in more than one home, more than one state. Even that fourth grader had already generated a wide collection of experiences, met people from different backgrounds. True my social interactions would not be considered broad to many. But even then I could say I had lived.

I had captured Blue Tailed Skinks. Been bitten by one too. I had seen that stream of water we splashed in during the intense heat of summer, swell after a thunderstorm. Hear the water’s roar long before I neared it. I had seen the ball of the sun when it appeared moon like in the thick morning sky. I had traveled from Indiana to the Sunshine State in a family friend’s 57 Ford Fairlane, for he had gone ahead with Dad’s truck loaded with all our family’s possessions. We crossed the Appalachians on two lane roads, because Interstate 65 was yet a dream, unfulfilled.

And that trek south was not, by my tenth birthday, my only road trip. For during those years we spent in Florida, my parents would return north to visit the only kin they had on the continent. Family meant a great deal to my parents and that thousand plus miles of separation surely aided in the decision to move back to LaPorte County Indiana.

But I have not only thought about the ten year old boy, I have thought about the young man of twenty. He cared little about that particular date. It was the next one that surely mattered to the thin college kid. I remember the depressed thirty year old, upset that his life seemed mired where it was. I had not yet reached even one of the goals I had set for my twenty-five year old self. I had considered myself a failure…then.

I think of the man almost three years married when he reached the next decade marker. He was just beginning to accept his place in the world…began to see his life more clearly. To understand…better…the world of which he was a part, and his place in it. I consider the fifty year old man with the beginnings of complaining muscles and grinding joints. That man was trying to raise the next generation of Vander Velden. His son was only nineteen months from completing his first decade.

It was during that sixth decade I faced an onslaught of emotional crisis. I had faced my mortality and the mortality of those I loved. The three days I spent in the Critical Care Unit changed me in ways time is unable to completely repair. But more the effect of losing my parents has left me scarred in ways no eye can see. But in the end I endured, and enduring is a victory. A victory to be proud of.

So what can I say about my just completed seventh decade?

These last ten years are a period of change.

Retirement…sorta. The aches are more obvious. The tasks I drive myself to do, are different. But perhaps the greatest change to this man now seventy is acceptance. For I try harder to understand others. To meet them closer to where they stand. But the person I have learned to accept, the person that matters most, is myself. That looking back and all the ups and downs…at all the achievements and failures…the bad decisions…the mistakes…I recognize blended within all that has happened is a greatness of this humble man God has created. Not a greatness of my own doing, but of God’s. I have found by accepting me as me, I can accept others for who they are as well.

So I look forward with optimism.

No, I do not know what the future holds for John Vander Velden. Or how many decades my God will allow me to wander upon the green side of the sod. But I take each day as the gift I have been given. I share those days, for now, with my beloved. If I have learned but one thing in these musings is that life is an adventure.

An adventure to be lived!

(974 Words) 2-10-2022    

To Step Lively Toward Tomorrow

By John W. Vander Velden

And so we begin another year.

I look forward to this brand new year, knowing I must change the calendar. But it is my hope that I change more than just a set of pages hung on the wall, replace more than sheets of numbers used on those fresh pages, twelve sheets that represent all the possibilities 2022 will present.

Each of us has our own opinion of the year just completed. Most are pleased to see 2021 in their wake, and though I might agree, for in many ways it was a difficult year, a painful one, I catch my breath and say each year I have lived has had its share of dark days. Yes, 2021 was our second year underneath the heavy wings of COVID-19. Yes, the year contained the loss of those we loved. Yes, there were times we struggled to find things we wanted or needed to purchase. Yes, there were so many things that could have been better. But even as I dwell on those thoughts, I understand things could have been much worse.

For God had given me 365 days, what had been a fresh sheet only a year ago. And among those days were magical experiences as well. There have been sunny days among the overcast. Times of laughter among the tears. I consider all that I have done. I had the opportunity to see things, go places, meet people. Do I ignore those things while wallowing in what could not be or what I wanted but could not have?

To do so would dilute the wonders of my life. It is for me therefore to remain optimistic in a world that only emphasizes the negative. Not that optimism comes easy. Not that optimism is my natural reaction. But because God gives me a new year, and it is an incredible gift, and to focus on what might seem dark while ignoring the light, does not pay the giver the complement He deserves.

So I, like you, have been given a new year, and though God does not promise me that I will see 2023, before me I focus on the chances and opportunities each day gives. The hours not to be mired in the muck of what ifs, rather I will grasp hold as firmly as I am able the tasks presented, and use what strength remains, for though I am no longer in my youth, there is yet strength in this man, and I use that strength to move forward each day.

So on this day, made special by mere mortals, a day I have decided begins a new chapter, let me march forward, with eyes wide open. But always remembering that life gives good times and times that I will feel in the end were not so good. I march forward hopefully having learned lessons from the year and years I have lived. That on those lessons I am able to stand taller and step lively toward tomorrow. For there are things that I need to do…

And so do you!

May God bless 2022…

(516 Words) 1-1-2022

Perhaps it is counterproductive to take the time for self-examination. Yet I find there are moments when I ask the questions in an attempt to understand …who I am. For, hopefully, the answer to those inquiries is deeper that the reflection I see in my bathroom mirror. I believe that each of us is much more than the veneer we show the world around us. The part of us revealed by our actions as we go about living the most ordinary portions of our lives.

It is not for me to decide the value of my actions, any more than I should choose which tasks I engage, or which people I take the time to aid or assist. Those activities, which I decide to do, are mostly shaped subconsciously by the man I am. Others will judge if the way I spend my time is a benefit or a bane, and yet I, on occasion, wonder about the quality of the person I am becoming.

For I understand that I am molded by the activities in which I participate, by the things I select to observe, choose to hear, or pick up to read. So times come when I must take a deeper examination of how these stimuli work to form the man I am becoming. And whether those changes are for my best.

Or the best for those near me. Those I interact with each day.

Yet, I am the first to admit that I am not the person to make that designation…of whether I am in a process of growth or decline. A person cannot be objective enough when looking inward, can they? The fact is I have hashed over my personal failings thousands of times. Events long ago gnaw at me still…remind me of the flawed person that moves about within my skin.

Does self-incrimination drive one to improve?

Perhaps.

I think it can, if, in my case, if I recognize the root causes that drove my actions, see my error, and understand how I should have behaved. Each person must address their own past ghosts and the effects of their hauntings.

As for me I feel that I have changed. That time and life has worked to make me into a different person than the one of years ago. I have learned. I have accepted. I have grown.

Late at night, in the dark, when I search myself deeply…privately…I must accept the man I have become while I remain dedicated in my attempt to improve myself. The task would be impossible except for my faith in something far beyond me. For woven within the fabric of who I am, is what I am…a child of God.

For it is my hope, my deepest hope, that my God and the faith I carry within me, pushes me to become something more that skin, muscles, organs, bones, and mind. That what I am is more than this vessel you might see.

More than the vessel I see.

For I have confidence that God sees deeper that even my critical self-examinations. Deeper than I could possibly imagine.

So these few words offer me a method to study myself in a new way. To lay out some of the puzzle pieces that make up this man, the pretty parts and the ugly. To handle each with the reverence they deserve. For I would love to cast aside some of the pieces of that puzzle, but the picture of who I am could not be completed without them.

But God has taken those pieces. The ones I am proud of. The ones I regret. Washed each of them clean in a way that only the Almighty is able. He is aiding in my assembly of the puzzle I am…each day. Helping me move forward day by day. Strengthening weary muscles and failing intensions. You see I know that, in the end, if I remain focused on the larger realities, God is helping me to become…who I am.

(670 Words) 12-10-2021 

What Really Matters

By John W. Vander Velden

In a world driven by what we might have, how easy it is to overlook the good things that surround us.  Being mere mortals we view so much with the lens of “see, hold, and touch”.  Harder to focus upon are the intangibles, and so we give them less value.  Surely a shiny Mercedes must be more pleasing than a puppy’s love.  After all a dog is just a dog…and a Mercedes…well.  But we have been duped.  For one day the auto will be just rusted metal, but the dog will always love you even if you drive a pile of cold hard rust.  So when Thanksgiving arrives, it is good to be grateful for the things that make our lives better, but more, much more, we should be thankful for all the things of life we take for granted.  The spouse that stands beside you no matter what.  The child, perhaps full grown, that gives us the respect we may not feel we deserve.  Each new day with its hopes and possibilities.  Let us appreciate sunrises, its brilliant golds, oranges, and scarlet.  Take time to notice the silvery moon that sails across the night sky filled with bright diamond like stars.  Feel the frosty winter air as we draw into our lungs, and laugh at the puffs of mists that we send off with each exhale.  Life is so much more than the somethings we can touch with our fingers.  It is all the things that reach within us and change our hearts.  As for me all these things show a God at work, prying me open, pouring something new inside, and for that I am grateful most of all.

So this Thanksgiving, take a bit of time to consider all the wonders, all the love, all the good that fill your world.  Share what you can to those who have so little.  It really won’t hurt you and can do so much good.  And give the priceless things, a smile, a kind word, take a moment to hold the door for another.  In other words share love, for in the end love is what really matters.

(360 Words)  11-23-2016

By John W. Vander Velden

The November wind sweeps over the countryside.  It passes through the cropland setting the corn’s leaves to chattering.  It moves through the trees, a whoosh in the tall pines and tugs at the leaves overhead.  It whispers to the leaves.  “Come fly with me.  Let me move you across the sky, carry you to far places.  You have been held prisoner by the branch too long.” 

The November wind sweeps away the golden and scarlet leaves of the Maple.  It lifts the yellow and brown leaves of the Tulip.  Beech and Cottonwood, Sycamore and Birch, the leaves fly and fall, scurried about by the wind.  But the Oak leaves answer the winds sultry whispers, “Our task is not finished.  There is time enough to float and fly.  We will remain here high above the tumbled and tossed.”

But the November wind is not satisfied, every leaf must submit to its power.  No leaf, not Oak or Apple, escapes its desire…its conquest.  “Do not be foolish noble leaves of the Oak.  Your purpose is completed.  Join the joy of all the other leaves.  Sail the bright blue heavens.  Now dear friends…now is your time.  Why concern yourselves over a few days…a few weeks?  What has your mother tree done for you?”

“We hear your voice, oh wind, but we do not answer you today.  Duty calls and we answer gladly.  Cling we will until our final obligation supplied.  We are Oak leaves and have no haste to join the discarded you tempt and cast aside.”

The wind blows through the trees.  It tugs and tears at any leaf that remain high above.  Yet the Oak defiant, holds its children.  Their time has not come…yet.

****

I feel a different wind slide across my cheeks, whispering in my ears.  My November wind’s soft hushed tones speak to me.  “You have labored long my friend.  Set yourself free.  Surely you have earned the right, paid your dues. Sail away, leave care and obligation behind.”

I close my eyes and for a moment fantasize of life painted by those thoughts.  But I answer.  “I am bound willingly to love and duty, to place and purpose.  Yes, my tasks continually change but not my responsibilities. 

“Do you not see the wrinkles and gray hairs in the mirror?  Have you forgotten the pain of worn joints or the ache of overworked muscles?” The seductive voice calls.  “Harvest comes for all.  You have worked long and hard, now is your time.  Leave all demands behind and escape before it is too late.”

“Surely everyone days are numbered,” I answer, “But I yet have some courage and strength, and others rely upon me.”

“Tasks unfinished, there will always be.” Comes the wind’s words.  “Even when you are dust there will be work undone.  Time has come for a narrower view. You grow weary.  Think of yourself.”

“Life is more than self,” I answer, “And love gives strength unsought and it never fails. When can love of self be greater than love of others?”

“And who, friend, would do as much for your?”

I grit my teeth and face the wind. “There is no balance sheet…this for that.  I do not labor for wages…or honor….  It is simply there is work before me and I am…still…able to do it.  I fear not the task nor will I shirk the load.  Too easy to turn away, place my burdens at the feet of others.  Too easy to turn inward and seek my own pleasures.  No, time sufficient for empty hours of little consequence.  But for now I cling, for many need me and I will not abandon.”

Yes, I hear the voice on the November wind, but I will not surrender…yet.

(626 Words)  10-31-2016

Across the Street

Across the Street

By John W. Vander Velden                       

For over twenty-seven years, William did not cross the street.

 Five days a week William drove to his work, coming north on Harrison Street, turning right, finding a space in the company lot, but he never crossed the street.  Walking into the large building, to the elevator and the third floor.  Out of the elevator, turning right once again, down the hallway…the space between rows of cubicles…those doorless four and a half foot tall gray fiberboard enclosures.  William walked past thirteen, then turned right a third time to a space containing a metal desk and moderately comfortable chair.  It was time to work.  Will placed himself in that chair, as he began booting up the computer, work begun. 

The hour delegated for his lunch found William in the windowless break room surrounded by walls of pastels…soft blues and greens.  There among others, each day he ate, often speaking of things that really did not matter, but he never crossed the street.  When at last William’s day ended…the task left unfinished to be attacked once more on the morrow…he left the third floor.

He left the building.

He left the parking space.

He left the company lot…but he did not go across the street. 

For across the street was a space…a space reserved for anyone…a space of trees and grass…a small pool of water with bright orange fish…a space where birds could be heard…where the wind could be felt…where the sun would warm…but William never crossed the street.

(265 Words)

Just a Ripple

By John W. Vander Velden

There are times when I consider the where I belong.  Oh, I know geographically the real estate, the bit of earth that I find myself – the place I consider home.  It is good to have that knowledge of something solid, something true.  But that constant is not what I mean. 

Perhaps I should approach it in another way.  On some early morning, stand at the edge of a pond, large or small.  Look carefully over the water when it is smoother than glass.  Then select a small pebble — the smaller the better.  Now stretching your arm forward, allow that stone to fall into the water.  Watch as it breaks the surface.  Allow your eyes to follow the rings moving outward.  I would contend that you have changed that pond.  You have changed the pond with those ripples that race outward and though may go unnoticed reach the far side. That change will soon disappear.  But you have changed the pond in ways permanent – ways you do not see – ways you can not know.  For that bit of rock settles upon the bottom, a new feature.  Animals, perhaps microscopic, must move by a different path because that stone now lies, a barrier, in their route.  Other plants and creatures may with time use it as a foundation for new growth.  Who can know all the changes that just one small pebble causes – changes greater than just a ripple?

There was a day – to me it seems very long ago – when I was just a pebble dropped into this pond.  And my birth may have been just a ripple.  To some those ringlets were large as ocean waves, but to most of those that shared the world with me, the new arrival, the wavelets went unnoticed.  But just as that pebble changed the pond, my entrance changed the world.  However there is an important difference.  You see the pebble has no control — none what so ever.  I on the other hand have abilities, gifts – can make choices.  Through those choices, I affect those around me.  How I use the gifts I have been given, changes this pond we share. 

So I look about the world I share with you and so many others.  A world I share with those I know.  A world I share with so many I have yet to meet.  A world I share with those I will never have the opportunity to see, some near others much distant.  I wonder where I belong, and more, what can I do so that God makes me more — than just a ripple.

(434 Words)

Most nights before I turn in, I stroll in my back yard for a few minutes.  On overcast nights I look up at the clouds that darken the night.  Filling my yard with foreboding shadows.  Sometimes on stormy nights I see lightning streak across the dark sky, or if the weather has moved away, flashes explode silently beyond the horizon, igniting the thunderheads in the distance.  This week, once again, I heard the call of coyotes near and far.  Many nights this summer I have heard katydids and tree frogs serenade the night.   
Those walks are only brief moments, a time I get a bit of air, while Cloey, our little dog, does the same and more.  But on clear nights I seek out the shadows, the places where the beam of our outside light does not reach.  There I allow my eyes to study the heavens, the stars and the moon.  We have had several clear nights this month, and I have watched the moon day to day.  I understand the moon’s phases, the whys and hows.  I understand the sequence of waxing and waning, of the moon’s apparent growth and shrinking.  At October’s beginning I witnessed the thinnest crescent…just a silver sliver dangling above the neighbor’s fencerow.  Each night I make a point of looking toward the growing moon a little higher in the western sky.  It has passed its mid point now for it sets about an hour later each night.  
I think about the moon.  About the ageless travels it has made around our globe.  I think about the uncountable generations that have pointed with awe at the great light of the night sky.  The moon seems ever changing…but the important word here is seems.  I am sure that the moon like everything else does change, but those variations are so slow, eons would pass before any of us might notice.  But the moon waxes and wanes.  Times it hides from us, but it does not really go away.  The moon continues on its journey around the earth.  It travels at the pace it has since before history and will do so long after I am a memory faded by time. 
I take comfort in the moon.  It reminds me that there are things bigger than I am.  It reminds me that my problems may come and go…but the moon.  You see the moon reminds me of GOD.  Not that the moon is GOD, for it certainly is not!  But the moon is a symbol of GOD’s power and majesty.  GOD set the moon in motion, a beacon in the night sky, which always seems to be changing but is not.  It’s we that have changed.  Just as we see the moon through different phases, we view everything from a changing perspective.  We shade our reality by what we believe is true at any given moment. 
When I consider the moon, I think about the things that seem to be happening in my life.  And know that things do change.  But hidden within those changes are the constants.  The rock solid things that really matter…love…good…and GOD.  That no matter how things change those things never will.  But the moon also teaches me to be open to change.  To see within those changes the solid foundation I know is there. 
I trust, when I wander the yard tonight the moon will be about fifteen degrees east of its position last night, whether I see it or not.  Clouds might hide its face from me, but that does not mean it is not in the night sky.  And so it is with my life.  I trust that even in life’s changes GOD has a plan for me…today…and if he wills it, tomorrow. My job is to figure out what I should do to complete that plan.  And when I figure that out, to do it.  That when the moon sets in the wee hours and a new day arrives I tackle the changing tasks set before me.  To do what I can to make the world, we share, a little better.  And through my actions reveal GOD’s love by caring about people.  It seems simple enough, but it isn’t.  But the moon is growing and even when its phases lead toward its hiding, I should be growing.  I should be taking the changes each day brings as another lesson about the constants that do not change.  
So I see the moon and in it the constant of GOD’s power…and the moon sees me dealing with all the changes of my existence.  Tomorrow comes and I will be ready….

(770 Words)  10-13-2016