The Poetry of Anne Maren-Hogan

“I can feel the grit of dust and crunch of downed cornstalks in these poems.  They are not nostalgic ditties, but instead are strong songs, often in a haunting minor key, that remove me to a time when many footsteps, from many families, from many homes, sounded on the Midwestern farm scape.”

Timothy Fay  (taken from  the back cover of Anne’s book of poetry)

Anne and Sam  with the Mrs and I  March 23 2013

I was introduced to Anne Maren-Hogan’s book of poetry this past November by her nephew Chris.

I would be the first to admit I am not a big reader of poetry….which makes what happened to me all the more powerful.

I can still remember sitting in Ms Burns 7th grade class reading “Jonathan Livingston Seagull. “

I got the impression something deep and profound was  going on in that story, but it was  beyond me.

(The same thing happened in Mr Newland’s slide rule class…..I felt  over my head and could not swim)

NEVER  wanting  to find  myself in that sort of discussion setting again.

Flash forward 40 year .

Chris  hands me a little book of poetry @ coffee break written by his aunt Anne. (Chris works with me)

In my mind, I’m thinking...oh/ no/  if I take it, he’s going to ask me later what I think…?

I will be exposed for the uncultured farm boy that I am.

I took the book.

I inhaled the book.

I discovered a writer that drew me in.

She wrote about growing up in a large farm family , not too many miles from me.

Here’ another quote from the back of the book:

“With narrative grace and keen insight, Anne Maren-Hogan celebrates the strength and perseverance of women.  Spanning two decades, the poems in The Farmers Wake offer a thoughtful meditation on family, place and culture.   The poems move beyond a chronicle of farm lief in the Midwest to remind us all of the very human connections we share with each other and this earth.  The landscape in these poems may be harsh and isolated, but the writing is rich and rewarding: stitching it all together with this certainty/ of leaving and returning as  Maren-Hogan writes in “Lifting My Eyes”  Pat Riviere-Seel

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Anne and her husband Sam were back in the area this past week visiting family.

I’d built a multipurpose addition to our shop this Fall and had been wanting to do a “German Building dedication”

Last Saturday night, was the dedication.

Anne and Sam, joined us for a night of poetry/ music and mirth.

I asked Anne,  if she cared if I included one of her poem on this post.  So I did get her blessing.

I intended to include my favorite poem titled The Farmer’s Wake”

(It is about her dad’s wake)

I’ve had a change of heart.

I’m going to hold off  because  I feel like she  has shared something with us very precious and sacred.

A  glimpse into her heart.

I will instead give you a link to her book of poetry, so you could have your own copy.

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In case you stumble across this post later Anne, I just want to say  thank you again for  sharing your heart, both in your poems and for actually coming and reading them aloud .

I am a wealthy man.  DM

German building dedication

Lead carpenter (me) nailing the evergreen branch to the gable. 

“Also” Did he just say “also”????

A pit you don’t want to fall into

Jim  told  with  me  yesterday  he had been thinking about  the things I’d shared with him  the week before.

“What things?”  I asked with a smirk,   “What  did I tell you? “

(That’s one of the beautiful things about short term memory loss….every day is a new day)

He reminded me I   had vented some  anger  frustration  in the realm of relationships.  I had been  feeling devalued.

(Last week’s blog post came out of that stuff) 

Well, He said, “I thought more about it  and by the middle of the week  I  was also battling self pity.”

“also”…did he just say “also”?

Self pity is  what Junior High girls do, right????

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After my conversation with Jim  I decided to look up the definition for self-pity:

     Psychiatrists have an interesting name for people who habitually indulge in self-pity–it’s “injustice collector.” These are the folks who are constantly dwelling on their hurts and hardships – whether real or imagined – and they enjoy thinking about them and talking about them. They lovingly collect and number each and every offense that others commit against them, and they search out people who will sympathize with them and commiserate with them. All this keeps the focus on themselves, which is what they want most.”

Dang, some of that felt a little too close to home.

That is the last thing I want rolling around in my brain!

I”m beginning to  think self pity is a lot more common than I realized.

I’ve been calling it other things  like ” being in a funk”,  “being down” “discouraged” “feeling rejected” feeling down”

My wife’s  daily devotional  had a warning about self pity this past Saturday:

“Be on guard against the pit of self pity.

  When you are weary or unwell, this demonic trap is the greatest danger you face.

  Don’t even go near the edge of the pit. 

Its edges crumble easily, and before you know it, you are on the way down. 

It is ever so much harder to get out of the pit than to keep a safe distance from it, 

That is why I tell you to be on guard.            

   from   “Jesus Calling”     

“You can sit by me if you like….”

“You can sit by me if you like,” Jarret said to me at lunch today

“Do you know why I asked you to sit by me?”, he asked.

“No, Why do you ask me to sit by you?” I replied.

“Because I like you! “he said with a shy smile.

Jarret is 4 years old.

He has been asking me to sit by him now for the past three weeks.

Our crew is building a shop at their farm.

The family  has  invited us in for  lunch  almost every day we’ve been on the job.

When I sit down at their  14 ft farm table  I think,...this is what it must have felt like to be a part of a large threshing crew..

Grant Wood’s Dinner For Threshers

People with a real gift of hospitality are a dying breed.

Even here in Iowa.

It’s one thing to invite a few close friends over for  lunch once in a while..

I scratch your back, you scratch mine..right?

Well, …it’s a completely different ball game to cook lunch for  a construction crew of 4 , 5 days a week, for the better part of a month.

Today lasagna  was on the menu

Yesterday I thought  Jarret’s mom had asked if I wanted a piece of “cheese cake” for desert?
“Yummy I said..I love cheese cake…!

“No” she replied, I said  “sheet cake”

my bad.

Well, today, guess what we had for desert?

Cheese cake topped with a blueberry filling.

I had to pry the guys away from the table today….

They did not want to go back to work.

John said it was the best tasting lasagna he’d ever had.

While I’m thinking about it..here’s a recent crew photo

Crew photo

I work with a great bunch of guys.

The morale on this crew is second to none.

Nothing worse than working around someone with a bad attitude.

At this point in my life, when I’m looking to hire someone, the numero uno thing I am looking for is

ATTITUDE.

I don’t care if you don’t know how to properly hold a hammer or read a tape measure.

I can teach you those things.

What I really detest is a whiner or someone with a dark cloud following them around.

I am really enjoying  the guys   that is helping me out this Winter.

As I write this, I feel like I’m starting to fade….4:30 AM comes pretty early

Jarret’s comments were still rolling around in my head when I got home from work, and I wanted to tell you about it…

Yea, I’m assuming I have a couple of regular readers 

There is just something serendipitous about a 4 year old   requesting that I be his lunch buddy 3 weeks in a row.

I am a rich man.

I will miss Jarret when the job is done…

Heck, I will miss the whole family…

Here is a picture of the shop we’ve been working on:

End view of shop

One last thing before I sign off…

Did you know what the word Hospitality literally means?

Hospitality:  Lover of strangers

I believe it is more caught than taught…

Jarret is growing up in a home where it is being modeled in a powerful way….

If I were a betting man, someday when he has a home of his own, he will also know how it’s done….

Is there anyone in your life, with the gift of hospitality?  Tell me about them.

Grandma was wrong

Picture of me at work yesterday….20 feet in the air/ living the dream ….my dream that is;-)

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“Oh Doug.. You were such a good student…I really hoped you would go to college.”  grandma said when she found out her eldest grandson was NOT planning to go to college..instead, I had decided to follow in my dad’s foot steps and work in construction.

There was disappointment written all over her face..

I felt bad.  Not until she was dead and gone did I appreciate where she was coming from.  Not until I had children of my own, watched them make life choices  that would affect them  long term… in ways they didn’t understand…then I was finally able to understand my grandma’s concerns…

But Grandma was wrong.

There is more to life than money.  A meaningful life  has nothing to do with material things…

I have a couple of friends who are making 2 and 3 times the amount of money  I do but hate their jobs….

They have full benefits, a 401 K… and they are quick to talk about what they want to do when they retire.

No thank you.

Quoting my dad now...”The word retirement is not in my vocabulary”

(Dad just turned 80 this past year and is still active in construction)

Last week I stopped @ Loes to buy a new  skill saw.

Good morning”  I said to a woman about my age.   She looked tired.

“How are you?” I asked…”(It was about 7 AM..she was  checking inventory)

“I wish I were home” she  replied.

I felt for her..  Her life was not her own.  There were bills to pay…only God knows the series of life decisions and circumstances that have brought her to this place in life….

Last April I was invited to speak at a jobs fair for high school students.

Started by sharing a quote that has cast a long shadow over my life :

“Do what you love and you will never have to work a day in your life.”

Don’t just settle for a job where you punch the time clock.

You may have to work @ a job  (or three) where you  “punch the time clock” in order to get where you really want to be….

but don’t stop there.. God didn’t create you to be a mindless worker ant ..unless that is what you really love to do.

I remember the pressure I felt  in school trying to figure out what I wanted to do once I graduated.   A real part of me thought I should  be a vet…that was until Mr Guard pulled me to the side one day in the guidance office  and  “suggested ” my grades indicated I probably couldn’t handle vet school.  I know he was only doing his job..but “dream killer” comes to mind  when I think of that conversation.

(years later I built a house for a vet/ told her my story, to which she replied, “Doug, if you really wanted to be a vet,one way or the other, you could have done it.  I didn’t make it the first time or two when I applied to vet school either..if you want it bad enough, you could have done it”)

Two  of my daughters , have  the desire to be a wives  and mothers.

Period.

I remember being @ the ripe old age of 20, having the strongest desire (nesting urge?) to settle down and start a family.

So  I did.

Best decision I ever made.

Pop culture today  mock those kind of  dreams…and I’m here to tell you, pop culture is full of #@$%%.

(that’s  German for incorrect…I’ve been using more German in my blog posts lately  you may have noticed )

If truth be told, pop culture is wrong on just about everything it promotes.
“We’ve  got a form of brainwashing going on in our country.”  Morrie sighed.  “Do you know how they brainwash people?  They repeat something over and over.And that’s what we do in this country.  Owning things is good.  More money is good.  More property is good.  More commercialism  is good.  More is good.  More is good. We repeat it – and have it repeated to us – over and over until nobody bothers to even think otherwise.  The average person is so fogged up by all this, he has no perspective on what’s really important anymore….

from the book Tuesday’s with Morrie.

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If there is more to life than money…what do you think that “more” is?

What in your life brings you satisfaction?

What would you tell the person who is up to their eyeballs in bills, who feels stuck in a dead in job they hate?

DM

If you looked into my eyes…

If you would have looked into my eyes two weeks ago,  and had the fortitude to lock eyes with me for more than a few seconds, you would have seen brokenness and pain.

Our eyes really are windows to our soul.

I discovered that truth on a whole new level last weekend.

I need to back up just a little…..

A few of you who know me personally, know that I have not been able to cry since  I was 16 . (I’m currently  54)

I can pinpoint the  day it happened.

My brother and I were  wrestling and it went from a good natured match to an all out fight.  He kicked my butt.  To make matters worse, he was a year younger  and it happened in the presence of my mom and dad.

I wept.

I can still remember the shame and humiliation.  I swore in my heart I would NEVER  Ever, experience that sort of thing again.

NEVER.

Well, unbeknownst to me, somehow, deep within the recesses of my soul, I flipped a switch and could no longer cry.  Only once in the 38 years since do I remember weeping…I won’t go into that now, just to say, it was in the midst of some intense emotional pain.

So last weekend during the course of a men’s conference, one of the things we covered was the fact that all of us have areas in our hearts of brokenness and shame. …

Things  people have said to us.  (or not)

Things we’ve intentionally done that nobody knows except us.

Broken relationships.

Abuse

Physical things about ourselves we are ashamed of.

it might even be your name….  the list is endless, but the results  are still the same.   We begin to  carry around this ever increasing load of hurt and shame.

I was able to identify 4 very specific hurts last weekend.

That situation with my brother.

Secondly, a vague but very real, dislike for how I looked as a youngster growing up:

My name if you can believe that..

and finally, on a very personal note, the fact that I was a very late bloomer…didn’t physically mature into late into my senior year of high school.   The shame and embarrassment of those years in high school  really did a number on my self esteem.  Gym class was Hell.  Yep, I was a runt all through high school.  Not the last one picked when we chose teams.but one of the last.

All of it is  bull shit (that’s german for garbage) .

Another word picture…

Our hearts are full of  cracks. They leak like a sieve….and until those  hurts are brought into the open and addressed, we will  attempt to fill those cracks with anything that  gives  temporary relief.  Food, shopping, sex, alcohol, people,  $, our jobs, blogging, e-mail, face book, video games, hobbies taken to excess, etc.

None of it lasts.  Before long,  I’m  looking for another fix.

The food addict, is  no different than the shop-a-haulic or the sex addict.  All three of them are dealing with the same crap, just going about it in different ways.

If someone cared enough to look to look  deeply into our eyes…no sunglasses on …. they would see the pain.

To make a long story short, God touched all 4 of those hurts in a very specific way.

I no longer feel their weight.

I look @ that picture of my younger self and like what I see. I LOVE my given name,  (my real name isn’t Doug btw/ it’s Douglas) I am in touch with my emotions…(I wept at least 4 or 5 times last weekend) and finally, I’m OK with being a late bloomer. I suspect it  saved me from a lot of heartache.

I’m sure  there are  probably still  pockets of brokenness to discover, but for now,  I don’t have the same compulsions to check e-mail, face book , or even blog…all ways I think I was trying to connect with people in a way to satisfy the longings in my heart.

Thanks for checking in.    DM

50 things to do before I die

“If  you want to know what’s really important to you, make a list.”

The following is an article by Wendy Swallow Williams I clipped out of a Readers Digest in the late 1990′s.

This article changed the quality of  my life.

This morning as I was catching up on what my fellow bloggers were posting,   this  long term life goal jumped off the screen:

“lots and lots of land for gardens, orchards, chickens and room to breathe…” 

  I told this young blogger , she had just described my life to a T.

I can trace the course  of my life the past 15 years  directly back to this short  article.   Since starting the habit of having a “list”  there are literally dozens of things I’ve  checked off.

To say it has enriched my life immeasurably is an understatement.  DM

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A few weeks ago, I followed a friend into an art-supply store.  I found him picking out tubes of watercolor paint, which surprised me because he’s not an artist.

“I signed up for a watercolor class, and it starts next week, He said sheepishly.  “I don’t really have time for it, but it was on my list of 50 things to do before I die, so I went for it.”

This sounded interesting,”What else is on the list?” I asked.

“All kinds of things, ” he said.  “Every few months I look at the list and decide what to focus on next.  Before I had a list, I moaned a lot about what I was missing in my life.  Now I just do stuff.”

“Can I see your list sometime?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he said.  “It reveals a lot about me.  Write your own list, and you’ll see what I mean.”

So that night I did just that, and he was right.  The list revealed a whole lot about what was important to me.  It also revealed how hopelessly behind I am at getting to the things I really want.

Just writing the list helped me sort through priorities.  I filled up the first 20 blanks quickly, but then began to think carefully.  Eventually I added items I’ve thought about for years, dreams I’ve carried with me since I was young, and things that resonated when I first heard about them.  When I reviewed the list later, some entries surprised me.

First, I want to travel much more particularly now that my children are older and can go with me to see the world.  There are ten trips I would like to make with the boys- from biking through Denmark to camping in the Canadian Rockies.

I was also surprised to find some things on the list that need to be done soon.  If I’m going to learn to Rollerblade, for instance, I’d better start before turning 50.

Some items, though I can put off until I’m older.  I would love to grow flowers,  to really garden, but while I”m raising kids and working I don’t have time for roses.

I would love to do volunteer work in a hospital nursery someday, rocking crying infants and giving them their first baths.   I would like to work with teen-agers,  leading youth groups or helping at the local high school.  If I’m going to do these though, I may need to reconsider running the bake sale for the school fair each year.

A few of the items are intimidating because they mean a serious commitment of some sort.  I would like to publish a novel before I die, and I would like to get a Ph.D, in English literature.  I also would like to learn to draw and play the piano with a string quartet.  If I’m going to accomplish these things, I need to start writing every day and polish my piano skills.

I may not make it through the list.  Some things may just be out of reach, such as New Zealand, and other ultimately may not work with the rest of my life, such as owning a horse.  Yet I see that I already have built the framework for many of these pipe dreams, and that if I make them goals, there is no reason I can’t find a way to taste at least part of that reality.

Like my friend, I now have an alternative do complaining.   When I’m bored with my life, I take out my list.  Maybe I’ll send off for travel brochures or take my pencils out in the back yard and doodle around for an  hour, trying to sketch trees that look like trees.

I have no idea how the boys and I will get to Africa, but if it’s important enough, I’m sure we’ll find a way.  One of them might grow up to be a zoologist, or I might become a nature writer and get sent on assignment or maybe we’ll just save a few dollars every week till we have enough.

I had a cousin who accomplished an amazing string of interesting things.  She once told me the key was preparing so that life could work in mysterious ways. “If you want your ship to come in, you must build a dock,” she said.

Thanks to my list, I’m working on some big docks.

Wendy Swallow Williams

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I (DM) will close with a few pictorial highlights off my list….

hosting  concerts in our home and barn.  When Katie Sawicki came to visit we also sponsored a songwriting workshop.

Yep, we went white water rafting in 2010 (that’s my wife in the boat on the right clocking the guy in the other boat with her oar. )  She said it was an accident. 

Had a pet pig I named Winston.  To tell you about that pig would take a whole blog post in itself.

Our orchard started out as a wish/ and idea on my “list”

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So tell me, do you have a working list of sorts?

Care to share any items you have yet to check off but plan to  sometime soon?

Someone has said the older we get, the less action oriented our goals become…. What do you think?

What type of relationship goals could be on a list?

My rendezvous with a pumpkin beer

On Thursday, Jason asked me if I would  drink a pumpkin beer with him after work the next day?

While I am not a “tea-teetotaler” my alcoholic consumption in a  year is probably less than   4 or 5 drinks….

and then to clinch the deal he adds, “By the way,  there’s a quote on the bottle by Thoreau about pumpkins, and it IS pumpkin season “

“What the heck I told him...bring me one…..”

So Friday after work I had my first pumpkin beer.

The taste  wasn’t half bad/ pretty mellow as far as beers go…about 1/3 of the way into the bottle he tells me…“By the  way, this stuff has an 8% alcohol content in it, so it has more “kick”than a regular beer…

Boy he wasn’t kidding…

Within a couple of minutes  I was feeling no pain. It took a good 2 hours before the effects wore off.

I haven’t had a hangover in 30 years..don’t miss those days one bit.

Looking back, the  turning point for me, came when I began dating my future wife.   We were out for pizza one night…I looked across the table at her and thought, Boy ,she would probably drop me like a hot potato if she knew some of the stuff I was doing…..

The decision was  simple…I walked away from the booze, the weed and the little diet pills and never looked back.

Today my drink of choice is coffee.

Starbucks French Roast if you’re looking for any gift ideas

It’s  legal, affordable and I don’t wake up with a splitting headache.

Our kids grew up in a home where heavy drinking was not the norm.  There was  too much heartache in both of our families related to alcohol.  I was telling my wife about the pumpkin beer Saturday night…told her  how thankful I was she rarely drinks…

I am of the persuasion there is nothing wrong with an occasional drink.

The issue for me is control.

I’m completely convinced the bible does not teach total abstinence.  You have to really do some linguistical   contortions to come to that conclusion.

On the other hand, alcohol is so subtle in its ability to enslave a person.   I’ve watched it happen to at least three people near and dear to me.

Early in our marriage wife and I made a decision to not drink  unless the other person was there or  on rare occasion, we were at some kind of family gathering.

We were both on the same page with that idea….I’m not talking about being sticks in the mud, I’m talking about setting up simple boundaries so as not to get sucked into something you’d regret later…

I’m in construction.  Stopping @ the bar on the way home at the end of a long day was what we did.

Before I was married I did it regularly.

Now, not a chance.

I can still remember sitting in The Office  watching Dave, a family friend  make lovey-dovey eyes with  some young lady 1/2 his age.  Pretty sure it was someone from work.  He had no idea I was there…his wife was a good friend of my mom…..

I told Jason on Friday,  when I’m out  in public, the last thing I want to be is fuzzy headed.  I want to be on my game.

I was telling my 25 yr old son about all of this yesterday….I told him, there is a part of me that would love to make my own wine, or even moonshine for that matter.  I am intrigued by the whole  fermentation process.  My grandpa even gave me the family recipe for moonshine. My concern is, I would like the stuff.

 

Parents in pain

This post is written to the Christian parent who finds themselves dealing with a prodigal child (or children).

Dear fellow parent,

As I sit  here this morning, our children range in age from 32 down to 25.  The last 17 years have felt like I’ve chopped my way through the Amazon jungles on foot.  Many, many times I felt lost, did not have a clue as to where I was at or if I were even heading in the right direction .

I have to tell you, once the overt rebellious stuff started happening, I realized there is are overly simplistic and   naive  schools of thought in the Christian camp about our children and  how to keep them from wallowing in all of the crap this world has to offer.

You can do it all right…not try to jam your faith down their throat,  be an approachable parent, willing to own up when you’re wrong,  involve them in good activities,  try your best to help them find good friendships, and avoid the bad ones, participate in youth programs, church, even send them away to  a Bible school…do it all, and  there is NO guarantee, they will still not chose  to shack up with some looser of a boyfriend or, binge drink till they black out...week after week.….

Then what are you going to do?

Nag?

preach ?

take them for counseling?

Second guess yourself?

….if only I had been more firm when I first noticed  she had a strong will!

Why didn’t I do a better job of looking into _________________(fill in the blank)

What do you do with the anger?  Because at some point,  besides feeling afraid for your dear child, there’s a good chance you’re going to be angry about something that has happened…maybe their blatant disrespect or sass, …maybe at someone they “love” , or are running around with…

What

To

Do

About

The

Anger???

As I sit here this morning 2 of our 4 children are still sexually active outside of marriage. (at least I’m 95% sure they are, they’d never tell us that is the case, but  it doesn’t take a brain surgeon to  connect the dots…

So, what is my role in their life, and what is my attitude with them as they continue to make choices that will bring them emotional pain, not to mention some STD or unplanned child, etc?

What do I do with the stuff  you feel?

Biggest help has been finding another parent that “get’s it” and rant together.

Nothing wrong with ranting.

Second thing… I can’t emphasize this strongly enough…

Nagging does not work

Getting angry with them does not work

See, deep down, they feel conflicted…and second thing..it’s not about you,  if sure feels like it is, I know but it’s not…it’s between them and God…

And at the end of the day, God has got to be the one to reel them in, and he is able.  I’ve seen it twice now..and there is a good chance they will have even more spiritual depth than their parents when it happens.

Keep the lines of communication open

Resist those  temptations to draw a line in the sand and say..if you do ________________,  then I’m through trying….

Nope, best thing you can do, is to find another adult and unload.

Couple of final thoughts…

If you kids do happen to turn out, right, don’t be to quick to take the credit..

I’m sitting here 17 yrs into the crisis called parenting older teens and I still have my joy, the kids still love to come home for visit,  2 out of 4 have found their way back spiritually, and the wife and I still love each other…nobody said parenting was a walk in the park.

Drop me a note if you need to talk.   DM

Jake

Wanted to tell you a story about a chicken.

His name was Jake.

We raised 60 roosters this Summer.

20   Black-australorp’s

20 Silver- laced Wynadotte

and 20 Rhode Island Red’s.

Every morning I would open the door to the brooder house. The young roosters  would rush  the door like shoppers  on Black Friday….

all except the Rhode Island Red’s.  Only two of them were ever determined enough to go outside to put up with the constant harassment.

The Australorps and Wynadottes’s would simply   not allow the Rhode Island Red’s to leave the brooder house  to forage…

even in the 100 degree heat this past July.

Chickens really do have a “pecking order.”

Normally, once that has been established, the  pecking will taper off.

Unfortunately, it didn’t.

One of the two Rhode Island red’s I would see outside on occasion was missing all of his long tail feathers and many of the feathers on the back of his wings. (the other chickens had pulled them out)

In spite of the constant pecking, this red rooster would come outside and make the best of it.

He became very aggressive, even with me.

4 weeks ago, when I opened the door of the brooder house. I noticed a Rhode Island Red rooster giving me the evil eye.

7  feet away, on a perch .

He caught my eye, because of the way in which he was moving his head back and forth…

It felt like he was trying to judge the distance between us.

I imagined him thinking…

“Can I reach him  if  I really go for it?”

The next thing I knew he was in my face.

Sure enough, the red rooster without any tail feathers.

I decided right then and there to take him out of the mix and put him in a building by himself.  As much as I wanted him to have the freedom to run around outside, it was either that, or continue to allow the other chickens to pick on him and he become even more violent.

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He reminded me of a young man I met a few years ago.

His name was Jake (not his real name)

I taught a construction class @ the local community college/ started out with a dozen young roosters, I mean men..

Two weeks into school, two of the roosters, I mean  students, decided to challenge my authority.

It wasn’t pretty, but  when the dust settled, they knew  who was in charge.

I found out later, one of them, had lost his mother two years before  to cancer and had been having run-in’s with  authority figures ever since.

Just knowing that, changed my attitude.  Instead of wanting to kick him out of the program  so I wouldn’t have to deal with him, I was challenged by a friend to pray for him.

When someone knows you respect them as a person, but will not tolerate their crap, it is amazing to watch their heart  change.  I saw it in Jake the student, and I was beginning to see it in Jake the rooster.

Yesterday was “butchering day” on the farm.

It’s pretty quiet outside this morning.

I debated what to do with Jake.

I’m sure he would  have attacked another person if he had the chance

Since he’s a rooster, there are no eggs.

Plus I already have a pet Rooster…

his name is Little Moe with the gimpy leg

Economic sense told me the best thing to do was butcher him with the rest of them….

I could have went either way.

 Jake

If you’re ever in the area, (we live in Iowa)   I’d love to introduce you to Jake and Little Moe

Sometimes stories really do have a happy ending.

My spiral into Depression

I learned at CCEF  ”almost anything can be at the root of depression: a recent illness in which you get behind in your work, hormonal changes, a reversal of fortune, the consequences of simple negligence, guilt over a particular sin, self-pity arising from jealousy or a disadvantageous turn of events, bad feelings resulting from resentment, worry, etc….the important fact to remember is that a depression does not result directly from any of those factors, but rather comes from a cyclical process in which the initial problem is mishandled in such a way that it is enlarged in downward helixical spirals that eventually plunge one into despair.

    Mine came about due to the death of a  vision.

WARNING: Going to talk about my faith….if that sort of thing gets under your skin….stop now…you won’t hurt my feelings.

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May 4, 1980 7:48 PM I wrote this in the front cover of a little New Testament:  “I made a commitment to God to live my life for his Glory’

Translation:  Just like a  person entering into a marriage covenant , I entered into a “covenant” with God Himself….as an adult I made an intentional decision to become a believer.

As is often the case,  I desired to be more effective in reaching  out to other people…there was this restlessness in my life.  Looked at 50 different Christian Colleges, trying to decide whether to be a formally trained pastor, or marriage and family counselor…Moved from Iowa to New Jersey in 1985 (with two kids in tow) , enrolled @ CCEF, decided I was being called to be a bi-vocational pastor .   Carpenter by day,  teacher/facilitator when  I could….1990 returned to the Midwest with a strong sense of purpose.  I’d  experienced  5 years of intense discipleship/mentoring  in New Jersey and believed God had brought us home to pass on what I’d learned.

Things were great for the first 2  1/2  years,  then  began to butt heads with  our pastor  In hindsight, God set me up- we had two completely different  understandings for a healthy church.  His was a more traditional model-  I on the other hand craved  deeper relationships  that can’t be cultivated when you’re sitting in rows looking at the back of each others heads.  We had two different models..not wrong/ just different.  I know I  wore him out with our intense discussions.   It finally came to a head in November  of 1995- we left the church-  the hardest decision of my life (till then) – 90% of my closest friendships were in that church/ someone told me later, it felt like a divorce- (it did).

I was confused, I was angry-(I’m not giving you all the details- this would get too wordy)- I believed I would eventually  be a co-pastor that church….instead I was on the outside looking in.

The depression probably started  two years previous, and lingered  another year.  Things  gradually got better since 1996 – here we are 12 years later and there is still a bruise on my soul.  Just this morning, as we’ve been organizing our office, I came across several magazines and books related to mentoring and discipleship-  I pitched the magazines, and am selling  some of the books on e-bay. I have no aspiration or intention of ever taking an active role in leadership in a local church.  I’m no longer depressed    just broken- and there is a big difference.

Have you ever wrestled with depression?  What triggered it?  What brought you out of it? (if you’re out of it?)   What good came from it (if any)?

Have you ever watched your life  goal  die?  What was it and where are you at in the process now?

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I originally wrote this in 2008 .  I was interacting with someone this morning about depression, when I mentioned I’d gotten a little taste of it myself, they asked if they could  hear my story…decided to re-post it for my new readers (all 3 of you)  DM