WHAT DO YOU MEAN HINDSIGHT IS 20/20

Mondays are always good do-over days. It’s a great day to start a diet, to set goals, to fix what you messed up last week. You get the idea. The beginning of a new week seems the logical point to make amends for past mistakes and jump start your future. Well, it doesn’t always work out that way, does it? For example, a few years ago, I greeted Monday with great enthusiasm. I got out my garden tools and began the task of pruning some dead branches. In my enthusiasm, I pulled one back that had no intention of leaving. Instead, it whacked me in the face. I immediately saw stars and thought it was curtains for me. The result was a huge shiner which couldn’t be covered with any amount of makeup.

Later in the day while taking a bath, I reached for a wash cloth.  As I sat back down, the non-skid mat slid from under me and I slipped back into the water, knocking my already bruised head against the ceramic soap dish.  A huge bump ensued and again I thought this was my final swan song.

We often have days like that, which generally fall into the Murphy’s Law category.  As we age, the odds get even stronger. Every mishap is deemed a lack of control and a sign of growing older. As I age, I forget simple things, especially when trying to multi-task, which I wasn’t particularly good at in the first place.  I leave one room on a quest for something and by the time I reach the next room, I’ve totally forgotten what I was going for.  Maybe it has something to do with all the head banging I’ve inflicted on myself through poor judgment. Some of the best lessons we can learn have to do with that old adage, “Hindsight is 20/20.” We can learn not to do those things again. More importantly, we can move forward rather than looking back.

God is giving us a second chance by placing those obstacles in our way. Instead of blaming Him for our situation, we should be thanking Him for leading us down a different path. That path leads to Him and His perfect plan for our lives. The first do-over was done when He sent His own Son to earth to save us all from the grip of sin and death. His sacrifice was perfection. His way is also perfect. Hang on to that good news and move into this week with new gusto. God has watered the desert of our hearts with living water. It’s time to quench our thirst and move on.

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SUNRISE/SON RISE . . .

I snapped this picture of a hazy sunrise at about 6:30 this morning. It almost looks like the sun is resting between two wires. A cloudy mist fills the sky around it, failing to reveal the majesty of a colorful sunrise. Smoke from the northern parts of Minnesota and as far away as Canada fill the space and almost dismiss the sun from view. Eventually, it will be all but swallowed up by the haze. Just when you think that will be the case, the sun’s rays pierce through the smoke and the orb comes to life again.

When I think about sunrises, I’m reminded of the many songs that have been written about them. “Sunrise, Sunset,” “The Sun Will Come up Tomorrow,” “I’ve Got the Sun in the Morning and the Moon at Night,” all talk about the effect the sun rising to light the day.

It’s been only a short time ago since we celebrated Easter. A time when the Son of God rose from the dead. That had to be an amazing Son rise. Imagine, seeing the risen Savior – alive after suffering a tortuous death. His blood-stained body was no more. The marks from the scourge no longer visible. His flesh restored. His radiance immediately noticeable. It wasn’t surprising that His disciples were not convinced of Mary’s news that Jesus was alive. The Son rose on that day, to prove to all humanity that He was who He said He was – the true, living, Son of God.

Sunrises will come and go. Some days we will never get a look at them, but as we draw our last breath, we can be sure that we will rise also, with the Son.

Thus says the Lord, who gives the sun for light by day and the fixed order of the moon and the stars for light by night, who stirs up the sea so that its waves roar the Lord of hosts is his name: If this fixed order departs from before me, declares the Lord,
then shall the offspring of Israel cease.” Jeremiah 31:35-36 ESV

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PHOENIX RISING . .

ART & INSPIRATION FROM PAUL & KATHY BOECHER

This painting is one that doesn’t really scream PAUL T. BOECHER. Paul’s mind often went outside the box with his art. This unique style probably came from his years of being in the advertising industry. It’s difficult to determine the species of bird, so I’m just going to assume it’s the mythical Phoenix who was supposedly consumed by flames and then rose up again from the ashes. A story of perseverance, staying the course, pushing on in spite of all obstacles.

When I see this bird, I have thoughts of the 911 tragedy and how the people rose up out of the ashes and came together as a strong nation, to fight those who would terrorize our country, I think about all the wars we have been involved in, which often are nothing more than politics as usual. Lives were lost, changed and destroyed by those who fought for the cause. The battlegrounds which were once institutions of learning, having become places to vent a deranged mind.

There are so many of these stories within the last century of life in America. Being the cockeyed optimist I have almost always been, I will continue to believe that the people of this country are basically good and the tide will eventually turn. Out of the ashes of wars, hate, anger and unrest, we will see new life rising. Young lives that will come to the rescue. Hope that this will not become so normal that it becomes the new normal.

For those who believe in Christ and the work He came to do on earth, there is hope. He was crushed by his peers. He suffered humiliation. He was wounded with the scourge and whip. He was hung on a deadly cross to die. He breathed His last. He was laid in a tomb. Death would not defeat Him. His body was restored to its original form. Only a few scars remained to prove it was Him – truly returned from death to life and risen to eternity. That incident would change the world forever, because through it, we too have the promise of a renewed life and spirit after death.

Mythical creatures like the Phoenix are limited. They are not gods, but visions concocted by man that have no merit. We are blessed with a living God who will never die. He is, was and always will be the only One to direct the path of every life here on earth.

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THE GREAT WALL DISCOVERED . . .

You may have noticed that I wasn’t present yesterday. The day before had started me on a quest for China and all my digging finally paid off. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the Great Wall I had anticipated. Just a huge brick retaining wall, which has become a permanent backdrop, placed by the highway department to deaden the sounds that emulate from said highway. What do you do with a garden spot that no longer has trees or birds? You improvise. If any of you have ideas that don’t cost a fortune, please let me know.

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GARDENING WITH ZEAL . . .

One of my happy places is right in my own backyard. For me, pulling out a ten-foot-long weed is very fulfilling. It has been a long, learn as you go experience. Living in apartments buildings most of my early years, meant having a pot outside next to my pet turtle, which eventually took a nosedive off the 4th floor apartment. or was thrown overboard by my somewhat naive little sister. To be fair, maybe she thought turtles could fly.

Anyway, gardening eluded me until after I married and settled down. It became a sort of sanctuary for me to dig in the dirt as if I was working my way to China – a common mistake for beginning gardeners. As time went by, I overcame that problem, but bit into more than I could chew when I attacked our hill garden. You see, it was all grass at first. I feared that my husband would wind up as roadkill in the street as he made his way down with the power lawn mower. So, I made it my mission one Mother’s Day, to create a garden out of it. I used perennial plants, which I knew nothing about. The ground cover plants would fill things in nicely, but I didn’t realize they would also invade everything else I planted.

So, armed with only a small shovel and two different sized spades, I felt I was about to conquer Mt. Everest. It turned into quite a showplace after about five years of digging. What I didn’t anticipate, was having to maneuver across this garden wall to remove the weeds. My neighbors would stand in front of their windows with little scorecards to rate my performance.

I still love digging in the earth. There’s some therapeutic about mud. It gives me a lift to release the hold of creeping Charlie or the infamous dandelion. It kind of reminds me of getting to the heart of my sinful nature. It is a lifetime battle to weed out the icky stuff in our lives, and truth be told, there is absolutely no way we can erase the hold of sin. There is a solution, however. God provided a Savior to take that horrific, invasive tangle of sin to the cross and die to remove it. He also gave us the promise that we would continue on after death in His perfect paradise.

Thank you, Jesus for removing the sting of death and providing a garden beyond all human comprehension.

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MISSING YOU . . .

It has been 147 days since you left this earth and awoke in paradise. I miss you so much. I found this photo from one of our road trips. It’s an empty bench in a park near the Coon Rapids Dam. We stopped there one day to sit and watch the lake. In the distance there was walking/bike path where an occasional human form could be seen. We talked about our lives together. We reminisced about how we had grown so much since our days of dating in high school. Who knew that those days would turn into a lifetime filled with highs and lows, sickness and health, moments of disagreement, times of loss and times of success?

The bench is empty now. You are no longer here to share my sadness. You will not hold my wrinkled hand any longer. You will not encourage me when I need to press on. Your wit and laughter live on in my memories. The memories we made on those short road trips will be a constant reminder of the last year we had together.

My love for you will never die. Little things like that empty bench stir a sense of emptiness in my life now. Tears escape from my eyes as I remember. I know this is a temporary situation. Ours was a beautiful love story that will not soon be forgotten. I know that we will be together again. There is no doubt in my mind. For now, I grieve, but soon we will begin again.

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THE SOURCE OF ALL LIGHT . . .

ART & POETRY BY PAUL & KATHY BOECHER

The days are getting longer in case you haven’t noticed. The light reaches the end of the day at almost 9 PM in my part of the world. That gives us so much extra light that we should be able to get much more accomplished in a day than we did three months ago. Today’s painting is a good example of how our streetlights can be most helpful when the days return to being shorter. Have you ever experienced complete darkness? What if all those artificial lights went out due to a power loss? The experience can be daunting. Your entire street is dark, making you feel vulnerable.

Even in our darkest times on this planet, we tend to feel completely helpless and alone. Our Creator God has made it possible for us to see, even when there is no light. We can be sure He will be at our side to lead us on the right path. He is with us every step of the way. God is light. He is the Creator of it and the only true source of perfect light. Even when the world’s power source goes dark, we have assurance from God that He is the light of the world.

These dark days of winter swell into an endless swirl of emotions,

We can’t seem to pull ourselves out of sadness, depression or anxiety,

There is only one way to eliminate those destructive feelings,

But how do you harness the sun and capture the magnificence of its light?

God is the source,

Some have tried to manage the physical light that encompasses them,

Some struggle to bring illumination back into their lives by setting goals and dreaming dreams,

Some never find it,

Some are filled to the brim with it,

Some will continue to spend their lives searching for it,

God is the source,

He created light from darkness – it was His first creation,

Separating the night from day – setting time into place,

He controls the sun, the moon and stars,

He lights the world with His radiance,

He is the source,

When the world seems so ugly and dark,

When it seems that nothing will ever be bright again,

When the darkness of sin has penetrated every aspect of our daily living,

Turn to the Creator,

His light shines brightly through His Word.

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THE COST OF FREEDOM. . .

ART & POETRY BY PAUL & KATHY BOECHER©

The painting you see today was taken from one of Paul’s sketch books. He did these quick paintings as reference for a larger finished canvas which would be created later. The magnificnt egret has found his freedom from the nest and is testing the waters. Like us, our freedom comes at a great cost. He may be hunted by predators or lose his way from home, but he accepts this gift of freedom as we should. With faith and trust in our Creator. On Memorial day we honor those who have given their lives for our freedom. Christ gave His life, to take away the wages of sin. He was the perfect sacrifice. So today let’s honor the men and women who gave their lives s that we could live in a free country. and not forget our loving God.

DECORATION DAY By Kathy Boecher

They called it Decoration Day so many years ago,

We’d dress our bikes with crepe paper to let our neighbors know,

Our pride was in the best place yet for all of us to grow,

Though times have changed and so have hearts, we still can live with pride,

We can’t escape the price once paid, with lives that now have died,

Those precious lives preserved our own, along with eyes that cried.

So, stay with us, dear Father, God and guide our country’s way,

Protect her from all tyranny and never let her stray,

Defend this country, keep her safe, God bless the USA.

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LOST IN A FIELD OF ROASTED MARSHMALLOS.

ORIGINAL ART & POETRY BY PAUL & KATHY BOECHER©

This painting is a typical scene on an early morning in the country. What a feast for the does that is visually tasting the treat that lays before her. America will celebrate those who have gone to war for our country and never returned. They are feasting at the table of the LORD where hunger no longer exists. Thanks to them, we can enjoy the freedoms that we have.

A misty, early morning, among the bales of hay,

New life appears and spreads its wings to welcome in each day,

The atmosphere with crystal glow is dusting every bale,

With morning mist and precious dew, with love it does avail,

A tranquil breeze, a breath from God, exhales as it inspires ,

Awakening every living thing, each flower He attires,

With beauty far beyond our view, with colors never seen,

He gives new life to everything and gives it pure and clean,

A drowsy doe arises and sees the waiting feast,

That lingers in the misty morn, to soothe the savage beast,

A bounty there beyond her scope, to last her for the day,

There’s more than she can handle, but that won’t get in her way,

A misty, early morning, among the bales of hay,

Where living things will wander and in its bounty play.

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LIFE GOES ON UNTIL WE DIE . . .

It’s obvious in this painting that the mountain lion is in search of his lunch. The chase is on. We, like the creatures of this earth, will eventually face death. It’s a fact of life. We run through this life filled with all kinds of emotions, but the most fearful thing can be the thought of dying. When we die, life on this earth is over. Or is it?

Jesus promised that He had come to save His people from death. Because of His perfect life, death and resurrection, we are assured of eternal life in heaven. Life doesn’t end when we die. It just gets better. Heaven is awaiting everyone who believes that Jesus was sent from Heaven to take our place in a world He wasn’t from. His love is way beyond our comprehension and that’s where faith comes in. The Holy Spirit has entered into our souls upon our baptism, allowing us to trust in Him completely. All we have to do is believe.

A hiding place where no one knows or sees or hears the truth,

A place where you can tuck away the trespasses of youth,

When hearts submit to God’s sweet call to come and be with Him,

Those sins will soon be washed away, and we can dwell within,

For God is our true shelter, He loves us as we are,

When hidden in His sacrifice, we won’t stray very far,

Our sins have been forgiven. Our path has been made clear,

The Lord of Heaven saved us, with His own Son, most dear.

Don’t try to hide from Jesus, He’ll never let you go,

He loves and understands you, He dwelt with men you know,

He knows our every problem, He feels our every pain,

But through His sweet compassion, His loss was for our gain.

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A DAY IN PARADISE . . .

ART & POETRY BY PAUL & KATHY BOECHER

The image above was the backdrop for a musical play about Esther from the Bible, called, “Such a Time as This.” I know it looks like another beautiful painting of Paul’s and it is. This masterpiece was created for the backdrop of the palace of the Babylonian king of Persia. It eventually would be painted over for another play. It seems sad to me that this was the case, but it didn’t seem to bother Paul. He said, maybe someday they would X-ray some of his works and find fifteen other paintings under the latest rendition. Thankfully we took pictures of these amazing sets.

The following poetry was done to illustrate what it will be like to be in the presence of God when we go to heaven. Hope you all have a wonderful Memorial Day Weekend. Stay safe!

To waken in the morning mist, amidst God’s vast creation,

To see the glory of His might and taste of His salvation,

To walk in valleys lush and green, to lift your eyes to heaven,

To bathe in waters fresh and clean, each sense it does enliven,

The mountain streams enfolded with his strength and might amazing,

The sun shines through the clouds so high with pleasant beams a blazing,

To pray in God’s great majesty within the beauty there,

Will take each breath you breathe away and wash away each care,

So, lift your voice and praise Him, lay your troubles at His feet,

Someday you’ll see Him face to face and He will rush to greet,

He’ll say, “Well done, my dearest child, now welcome to your home,

You’re safe with me from all the grief that you have ever known.

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THE MANY FACES OF ME . . .

Today is throwback Thursday, so I thought I’d throw a few pictures of Moi, to show you what a ham I am. Obviously, I’m not afraid to get up in front of an audience. That is as long as I’m not actually myself. I love to hear the laughter of the crowd. I feel as though I’ve completed my mission. However, when I get on stage to present a speech it’s altogether a different story. Maybe it has to do with my use of theatre all these years, to cover up the real me.

I wonder how God sees me. Of course, He knows me inside and out and can see all the flaws along with the talents He’s given me. So, none of those false facades are going to mean much to Him. He knows every detail of every sin I’ve committed, but nothing I can do is going to erase those sins. This whole thing about Jesus taking my place, by suffering and dying on a cross could seem pretty odd to most folks. He died for you and me. Well, that death wouldn’t have made much difference, had Jesus not risen from death – overcoming it, the devil and the evil of this world.

His resurrection is the key to the promise of eternity in Heaven with Him and all those who have entered there. There’s no hiding behind a mask. We won’t need to. Jesus is the Redeemer of our souls. He alone gives us the confidence to push through this life with hope.

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ALONG A COUNTRY ROAD . . .

This painting almost reveals a lone pheasant hiding in the tall grass. The typical farmstead displays a staunch old barn, with chicken coops behind it. Paul often hid little surprises in his artwork. Being an avid outdoorsman, he knew just where those surprises would hide. The weekly road trips we took through what was left of those magnificent old buildings dwindled in the last few months of his life. Many had been abandoned or in disrepair. Some had been sold as a last resort for those who no longer wanted to continue the family business. It’s sad to see little boxes of new homes taking their place.

Life goes on. We use up the good things and replace them with things that have no real character in them. That even happens to those of us in the later years of living. The facade has changed drastically. The body can no longer manage by itself. Do we ignore the elderly? Do we tear them down like the broken buidings that have lost their worth? Do we honor them as God has commanded or rely on someone else to watch over them until they take their final breath?

ORIGINAL ART & POETRY BY PAUL & KATHY BOECHER©

Morning sheds its whimsical glow upon an old country road,

Sunlight flits in and out of the foliage,

Creating patterns on the cobblestoned path,

Wind gently caresses the trees,

Kissing each leaf as it whispers through,

Dreams are made along such paths,

Lives are changed,

Senses enlivened,

If only we allow them to happen,

Along a country road.

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WHAT ARE YOU WORTH

When we grow old, some of our self-worth diminishes right along with our ability to get up each day. Somewhere during middle age we become so busy  taking care of our family and building a life, we tend to forget about our own worth.   By the time we’re in the last stages of life we tend to lose faith in our abilities.

Life can be overwhelming when you’re going from one stage to the next. The same is true for us seniors as we see our lives melting away, our strength being sapped and our dependence on others growing. Heaven looks pretty good to most of us. I guess even kids who grow up in Christian families with strong Christian values sometimes find this world a tough place to understand. The emphasis placed on Heaven can make the thought of being there even more enticing.

The devil wants us to believe that we’re worthless – that either we aren’t capable of a good life or we’ve worn out our usefulness. He also wants us to believe that death is the only answer and if we end our lives, we’ll have eternal bliss. This is one of Satan’s biggest lies. God is the only One who can provide us with heaven.

Our lives have purpose no matter what our age. Young and old alike still have a lot to do. We need to work together to accomplish our goals. The young can bring enthusiasm to their elders – they can help them with the physical things they can’t do anymore. The elderly can give back some of their knowledge and wisdom though mentoring – they can advise on career paths – they can encourage their younger counterparts by helping them realize their potential and worth.  They have time to listen and counsel. I think that’s key to overcoming the generation gap.

When you feel you no longer have a purpose in this life, look to the One who treasures you beyond measure.  Put your faith in Him – not in yourself – not in the ways of this world. If you take life’s journey with God as your partner, He will give you a life with abundant joy. What is to come in heaven is the ultimate bonus – not an excuse for us to walk away from what God has planned for us.  He loves us so much that He made the ultimate sacrifice so that we would never die, but have eternal life.

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ALL ALONE . . .

Nestled in the protection of her surroundings, this lonely egret stands – by herself wondering. She may have lost track of her mate. Perhaps she needs time to herself. Maybe she is seeking direction from her Creator. As I think of my own situation, I tend to feel much like her. My mate is no longer available for advice, for a tender touch, for laughter and a pat on the back. There are times when I need the quiet of solitude, to remember when he was part of this world. To look at his art and see him in every brush stroke. To imagine he’s still here and that all of this is just a dream. At that point I know that in order to move forward, I must seek direction from the One who never leaves. He will always be with me, even after I take my last breath on this mortal coil.

ART & POETRY BY PAUL T. & KATHY BOECHER©

We often seek to hide from God – our sins are much too great,

We tremble at the thought of Him, but He will simply wait,

Until the darkness is too much for us to comprehend,

We’re in so deep, our broken hearts think they will never mend,

But He provides a way for us, His hand is in all things,

He lifts us with His might and strength, Salvation to us brings,

When time for us runs out we think our sins will be revealed,

For all the world to know about, we think our fate is sealed,

But God has different plans for us.  His love will last forever,

He sent his Son to pay the price.  It was His chief endeavor,

He’s with us every moment.  We cannot hide from Him,

How great His love and mercy, our very souls did win,

He washed us clean from all our sin, the victory now is won,

We never have to hide again; His work has just begun.

So, turn your heart to Jesus.  Delight in His great love,

For us He’s granted pardon.  Our home waits up above.

Posted in anxiety, Art & Poetry by Paul & Kathy Boecher, God's plans | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

CRUISING DOWN THE RIVER . . .

ART & POETRY BY PAUL AND KATHY BOECHER

This painting reminds me of the tales from Mark Twain. You can almost see Huckelberry and Tom floating on a raft beside this huge paddle boat, slowly moving down the river on a hot summer day.

The tepid waters of summer tumble over the rungs of the paddle wheel.

The water makes a big splash as it embraces each of those slats.

Synchronized into a rhythm that reaches the soul.

A sky of clear blue acts as the perfect canopy.

A few clouds puff into giant cotton balls.

Summer has arrived on the mighty Mississippi.

The vessel creates enormous ripples, pushing away from the craft.

Sounds include the croaking chorus of frogs, various river birds, the gentle breeze as it blows across your face.

The intoxicating aroma of dead fish, fermented seaweed and steam reaches your nostrils.

Your eyes spot an eagle circling on high, waiting to swoop down, using his large talons to catch his lunch.

All the senses come to life as you continue to slowly push through the muddy water.

It won’t last for long. The days will soon grow shorter again. The sun is slowly dipping into the western sky.

Breathe it in. Feel it. Touch it. Listen to it. See it and taste the beauty for just a little while. It won’t last forever. Only heaven will.

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ONE RINGY DINGY DINGY . . .

THE PHONE IN THIS IMAGE IS ON THE WALL IN MY LAUNDRY ROOM.

How would you like to carry this thing around in your pocket. You might need a bigger pocket, not to mention you will only be able to make or accept phone calls on it. It isn’t multi-purposed like the phones of today. Today you have a million choices for various apps to add to your phone. You can set dates on a calendar to remind you of appointments. You can choose an app that shows you what kind of plants you have growing in your garden and what is simply a weed. You can discover the value of some vintage items you have around your house. Those are great conveniences, but they also use up some of your valuable time.

You can do so much on the newfangled phones of today, but there are some downsides to this instrument of communication. If you don’t want to communicate with someone, you don’t have to answer their emails. You can spend hours looking at the screen which also eats up time you could be spending outdoors, finishing a project, or simply enjoying the things that make you look beyond photos. You can fall into some dark rabbit holes. Many sites are available for things that tempt, that rouse your desires, that reveal more than you want to see. For the most part these phones can be a great convenience in researching something, but they can also stack up millions of minutes of screen time.

So, I’ve tried to include some of the good, bad and ugly of these devices. Did you realize the old-fashioned phone in my photo had a downside or two of its own? For one thing, if you lived in a rural area, you most likely had a party line, which included one or more other customers in your same location. You would know the call was for you, depending on the number of rings. If you picked up the phone when it was ringing for someone else, you would be privy to their conversation. A lot of false information would be gathered from those overheard conversations and could easily become fodder for gossip. You had to crank the phone to get the attention of the switchboard operator. It too, took a lot of valuable time away from the consumer. The good side of this device was mainly based on emergency situations or just having a means to communicate with friends and neighbors.

The phone has gone through a lot of changes even in my 83 years of living. Change for the better? I’m all for progress, but nothing beats sitting at a table and talking with someone face to face. You can read a person’s body language when you can see them. Even on FaceTime, each participant is on their best behavior, so you don’t really see what they’re thinking.

It makes me wonder what people did before the invention of the telephone. They wrote things down in journals. They read incessantly. They played board games. They went outside and enjoyed the peace and quiet of a lovely day. They had meals together as a family. They talked to one another. The visited museums, libraries, historical sites, entertainment venues. They talked about those trips when they got home. They also created some wonderful memories through them.

I am not complaining about the phones of today. In fact, they are very helpful to the senior community. We can call if we have an emergency. We can text to get an immediate response. We can write a blog. We can send emails when our handwriting has grown indecipherable. We can keep in close touch with those who live a long way from us. I kind of miss the old party lines, not because I enjoyed spreading gossip, but because a lot of interesting stories were added to my collection of future stories.

The speed of communications is wondrous to behold. It is also true that speed can multiply the distribution of information that we know to be untrue.”

Edward R. Murrow

Pardon me now as I try to write a ten page text message. It’s hard not to when you’re a writer.

Posted in aging, Family, Internet, technology, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , | 9 Comments

SQUIRRELY TALES . . . FLAT STANLY

She’s right, you know. I have a very scientific mind. It gets me into all kinds of trouble with the rest of the squirrels, but eventually they realize I’m right about most things. The fact that I flaunt my knowledge gives them a reason to pick on me from time to time. I’m getting used to it though.

When I was a baby squirrel, some of them referred to me as Flat Stanly, because I loved to splay my legs and lay flat on the ground. They said I was weird, but even at that very young age I knew doing this would keep me cool on the hottest days of summer. My mother took offense, but like I said, I’m a very intelligent squirrel. Did you know that baby squirrels are called kittens? Sometimes they’re referred to as kits or pups. I’d say that’s a lot weirder than Flat Stanly, but I’m OK with it. Mother always told me that the name Stanly is very complimentary. It means “Stony clearing.” The thought of splooting gives my name special meaning. Actually “splooting” is precisely what they call it when a squirrel spreads it’s legs and lays his belly close to the cool stones or grass when its overheated.

Those bullies won’t listen to me. They will regret it someday when the sun is fiercely beating down on them one steamy summer afternoon. They run around like chickens with their heads cut off and get even hotter. Not me! I may be a nerd, but you can’t beat natural air conditioning.

“People look at me like I’m a little strange, when I go around talking to squirrels and rabbits and stuff. That’s ok. That’s just ok.”

Bob Ross

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REFRESHING RAIN . . .

At last, we finally received a nice dousing this morning. Just in time too. I just weeded an area around Paul’s sculpture of “Surrender,” and planted a few plants at the base. Clearing out space for a new garden can be a literal pain in the back. I’ve tried a number of different gardening seats, stools and kneelers over the years. Lately I’ve reverted to an older storage bin with the cover on. It seems to be just the right size for my short legs. I had one of those short rolling seats but kept falling off the thing when I rolled it and had a Dickens of a time getting back up. The kneelers are out of the question because I no longer possess the knees of a 16-year-old.

One of the best things about slowly going through a section at a time is that you find all kinds of surprises. As I gently pulled long roots of weeds I came across a few lilac bushes. There are about four of them in the beginning stages of life. I lost a lot of these fragrant bushes when they installed the humongous sound barrier behind our house. I was so excited to see these baby lilacs pushing their little heads out of the ground. If I had been in a hurry or using a speedier method of eliminating the weeds, I would have taken these out as well.

Gardening for the geriatric population is not only a rewarding hobby, but you can work at your own pace. We’ve had some sweltering heat in May this year. So a little rain is a refreshment to the plants as well as the planters. I finally realize what it means to slow down and smell the roses.

ART & POETRY BY PAUL & KATHY BOECHER©

Refreshing, cleansing rain falls softly on an eager earth,

Thirsting for relief, longing for renewal and rebirth.

The tears of God bring respite for the dying soul,

He gave His only Son to fill a gaping hole,

The hole that widens every day,

When we forget to look up and pray,

As branches dance and lightening fills the air,

I think of Him who never fails to care.

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RESTORED MAN . . .

ART & POETRY BY PAUL & KATHY BOECHER

The title of this wood sculpture is “SURRENDER.” Paul carved this with hammer and chisel several years ago for a religious art show in Northeast Minneapolis. From there, it stood in his warehouse studio after which it was relegated to stand in two local churches. Eventually it wound up in our backyard. With years of standing in the garden, weathering the elements and stirred people’s imaginations, it finally was in need of restoration. My son-in-law has become quite talented working with wood, so he undertook the job of bringing new life into something old. Yesterday he delivered it to our backyard. It looks like new and will be good for another few years.

The sculpture depicts a man who is in need of restoration too. Paul shows the face of the man downtrodden and depressed, with his oversized hands reaching out to God for help to his desperate condition.

When you think about it, this sculpture might give the suggestion that the Father is looking down and the first thing He sees are these huge hands, begging for mercy. Like we must appear to our children when they reach out to us. Why do we wait until the burden becomes so heavy that we no longer can carry it? It would be so much easier to just surrender to God’s will. Not that we’re giving up. We’re actually doing what Christ commanded His followers to do.

Lord, when I come to you in prayer,

I know that you will be right there.

To comfort me and heal my pain,

To bring me back to life again.

My hands I lift to you each day.

You hear the prayers that I pray.

I know that you will answer me.

Your strength alone will set me free.

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