By G. E. Shuman
Well, just a few days ago our beautiful planet arrived, once more, at the starting place of a new year. She, (Planets, as all beautiful things, must be “she’s“.) reached that precise point, in empty space, in her orbit of the sun, where we humans have decided that a new year begins. Please note that what we decide may have very little to do with the true beginning point, but God isn’t telling, so we do the best that we can. And, since our entire solar system is actually speeding along in a big black infinite bunch of nothingness, we are never really where we have ever been before, anyway. In any case, as the calendar, the seasons, and our conception of what a year is demand, we have just begun a new one. Happy New Year!
So, regarding the new year, and I probably have asked you this question several times at this point in our previous annual trips around the sun, what are you going to do with it? Do you have any real plans for it? Are there any positive changes in your life that you have been putting off making because, well, people make life changes when the earth gets to the point in the circle that it did a few days ago? If so, guess what? It’s that time again. In fact, you’re behind by several degrees by now.
Personally, I don’t make New Year’s resolutions. I regularly set myself up for failure throughout the year, and have no need to do it again on New Year’s eve. Besides, a few weeks ago my doctor made a resolution for me, in making an appointment for me to see a specialist, to get a certain weight-borderline diabetic problem under control. How rude of him. I guess a resolution in which you really have no choice, if you want to stay above ground as long as possible, is a good thing, especially if someone else makes it for you. It reminds me of an email joke I received recently. The joke was a drawing of a man who looked too much like me, in his doctor’s office. The caption was a simple question from the doctor to the patient: “So, which fits into your busy schedule better, exercising an hour a day, or being dead twenty-four hours a day?” Hey, I wonder if my doctor was the one who sent that to me.
Truthfully, for our family, the past year brought many good times, and some really tough ones. We have shared the blessings of being together, and have, I believe, witnessed more than one personal miracle. We have also shared the burdens of serious illness within our family, and even of recent death and personal tragedy. All of these things, the very good and the very bad, seem to be unexpected and inalterable elements of our many yearly journeys around the sun. So, get healthy, love God and your family, and hang on tight during the ride, because… Here we go again.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Friday, December 16, 2011
The Guardian
(a fanciful story)
By G. E. Shuman
It has been many years since I first became guardian of this place, for these few weeks, at this magical time of the year. I have no idea of the number of those past years, and have failed at counting the long periods of rest and darkness in between the wonderful times of light. Those most recent eleven black months are over, again, and I have been elevated, once more, to my high position in this lofty corner of my domain. From here I look down upon my world, and seem to be master and ruler of all within my sight. In truth, my job is that of overseer.
My world certainly is beautiful from up here. The green and spreading expanses below me are filled with sparkling, colored things; collected, cherished objects hang down, leading from my feet all the way to the vast, carpet-plane below.
I accept my unspoken but obvious duties, without question, each year. As sentry and sentinel of the realm below, I am placed here to observe, to guide, to guard. I silently protect the peace of this place, and am always grateful for the great trust that has been placed in me, all these many, watchful Decembers. My supreme duty, my highest calling is to attend and enlighten the time of the great reading, and of the prayers, and of the explanation to the little ones, the truth and the cause of this time of celebration.
These past several weeks I have observed, from my high post, many and wondrous preparations. My entire world is now adorned; and more and more the glad and seasonal songs have echoed up to me from far below, somehow, flowing up the ever-smaller branches , until they reach my ears. It is safe in this place, and I am warmed by the glow of both fire and family love. I have sensed some stress in the accomplishment of the preparations, but that is usual, and to be expected. Negative feelings and actions are far outweighed by a sense of seasonal excitement, and true joy in all that is done.
As the great day approaches, delicious food aromas waft up to me, as do chattering conversations, and the strange, unmistakable sounds of paper being cut and fitted onto boxes. These familiar scents and sounds jog memories of many other such times of preparation; memories which had somehow left my thoughts until now. I know that I have also felt this experience of remembering things from the further past, IN the past, as I feel it now. How strange, but similar are these yearly repetitions.
It is now the evening just before the great celebration day! I must be alert! I must fulfill this, my greatest yearly task. I must watch all that is done, and listen to all that is said.
Now the sacred book is opened, and the story is read, once more, to the few within the reader’s hearing, on this late evening. It is the story of that other night so long ago. The man in the great chair below begins reading aloud to his family: “Luke 2:7-8 ‘And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn. And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flocks by night‘…” The man continues on, sharing with his loved ones greatest TRUE story ever told. The story is the reason for my own existence. Much more importantly, YOUR family is the reason for the story‘s existence. Read it to them. It is meant for them, and they are meant to hear it.
I know that within the next several days I will be decommissioned from my post, and placed, once again, into a new time of darkness. I have no fear, as I have done my duty as a tree-top angel. I have witnessed the great truths of Christmas being proclaimed once again.
By G. E. Shuman
It has been many years since I first became guardian of this place, for these few weeks, at this magical time of the year. I have no idea of the number of those past years, and have failed at counting the long periods of rest and darkness in between the wonderful times of light. Those most recent eleven black months are over, again, and I have been elevated, once more, to my high position in this lofty corner of my domain. From here I look down upon my world, and seem to be master and ruler of all within my sight. In truth, my job is that of overseer.
My world certainly is beautiful from up here. The green and spreading expanses below me are filled with sparkling, colored things; collected, cherished objects hang down, leading from my feet all the way to the vast, carpet-plane below.
I accept my unspoken but obvious duties, without question, each year. As sentry and sentinel of the realm below, I am placed here to observe, to guide, to guard. I silently protect the peace of this place, and am always grateful for the great trust that has been placed in me, all these many, watchful Decembers. My supreme duty, my highest calling is to attend and enlighten the time of the great reading, and of the prayers, and of the explanation to the little ones, the truth and the cause of this time of celebration.
These past several weeks I have observed, from my high post, many and wondrous preparations. My entire world is now adorned; and more and more the glad and seasonal songs have echoed up to me from far below, somehow, flowing up the ever-smaller branches , until they reach my ears. It is safe in this place, and I am warmed by the glow of both fire and family love. I have sensed some stress in the accomplishment of the preparations, but that is usual, and to be expected. Negative feelings and actions are far outweighed by a sense of seasonal excitement, and true joy in all that is done.
As the great day approaches, delicious food aromas waft up to me, as do chattering conversations, and the strange, unmistakable sounds of paper being cut and fitted onto boxes. These familiar scents and sounds jog memories of many other such times of preparation; memories which had somehow left my thoughts until now. I know that I have also felt this experience of remembering things from the further past, IN the past, as I feel it now. How strange, but similar are these yearly repetitions.
It is now the evening just before the great celebration day! I must be alert! I must fulfill this, my greatest yearly task. I must watch all that is done, and listen to all that is said.
Now the sacred book is opened, and the story is read, once more, to the few within the reader’s hearing, on this late evening. It is the story of that other night so long ago. The man in the great chair below begins reading aloud to his family: “Luke 2:7-8 ‘And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn. And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flocks by night‘…” The man continues on, sharing with his loved ones greatest TRUE story ever told. The story is the reason for my own existence. Much more importantly, YOUR family is the reason for the story‘s existence. Read it to them. It is meant for them, and they are meant to hear it.
I know that within the next several days I will be decommissioned from my post, and placed, once again, into a new time of darkness. I have no fear, as I have done my duty as a tree-top angel. I have witnessed the great truths of Christmas being proclaimed once again.
Friday, December 2, 2011
Those "Uncomfortable" People
By G. E. Shuman
Have you ever known one of those people whom you just don’t feel completely comfortable being around? That person is not one of the type you would actually cross the street to avoid running into because of some rude thing they were likely to say. I have known a few of THAT type. I had an uncle who was one. He was a good man, just rude. Yes, somehow, I have learned, you can be both. When I was a child my whole family would cringe and do anything possible to hide or go away whenever my uncle’s car would pull into our driveway. It was almost as bad as the duck-and-cover routine to avoid nuclear fallout that we learned in grammar school back then, and the situation was exactly as futile. In both cases, you just can’t get away. Like I said, my uncle was a good man; a minister and everything. He was just rude, and unavoidable. The way people like that operate, and get their way, is that most decent people would rather not ruin their own day with some big verbal confrontation. Therefore, my uncle always seemed to get his way. As an associated side-note, I will tell you that a company I once worked for actually encouraged their upper management to read a terrible book entitled: “Winning Through Intimidation.” The premise of the book was to make people who worked for you scared to death of the sight of you, and that doing so would make them work harder. I never read the book. I never wanted to. I already knew my uncle, and he probably wrote it.
The type of person I’m referring to as making one simply uncomfortable is much less harsh a type than my uncle was. This person is one who says slightly cutting things that are just not necessary to be said. He is one who would have never heard his mother tell him: “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.“ He would have been far too busy pulling the wings off from a housefly to listen to that. You know the type, and I‘ll wager you have a mental image of an individual, in your mind, right now. I have several. I used to think that a person like that was just trying to be funny, in saying some stupid and, coincidentally, hurtful thing. Come to find out, in most cases, there is no coincidence about it at all, no matter how much ‘stupid‘ is involved. To be fair, there are some legitimately stupid people, and those are okay to say whatever they want. Doing or saying something because you can’t help it is always okay, in my book. I would rather put up with a thousand stupid comments made by legitimately stupid people, (I have several liberal friends.) than with one stupid comment made by a smart person. You see, smart people do it on purpose, and that, to me, is inexcusable.
I’m writing about all this today because, over the years, I have been verbally accosted, although accosted is too strong a word, by a handful of people whom I believe to be smart, but who seem to like to say ’uncomfortable’ and unnecessary things, and thought you might have had similar experiences. Those unnecessary things, unfortunately, always seem to be etched deepest in the memory. They are particularly difficult to erase. I do take heart in the fact that there is justice, in the next life for sure, and in this one, for some. Such people as we have here discussed soon exhaust an ever-diminishing list of friends, who may not actually cross the street to avoid them, but who also would not cross the street to bid them “Good day.”
If you know someone like this, who says ’uncomfortable’ things to you, figure out if they are smart people, or stupid. If stupid, then chalk it up to that, give them a big hug, and move on. I they are smart, move on still, only a bit faster.
I have learned that many people go through life completely unimpaired by the rare speech impediments known as tact and manners. If you are one of those people, stop it.
Have you ever known one of those people whom you just don’t feel completely comfortable being around? That person is not one of the type you would actually cross the street to avoid running into because of some rude thing they were likely to say. I have known a few of THAT type. I had an uncle who was one. He was a good man, just rude. Yes, somehow, I have learned, you can be both. When I was a child my whole family would cringe and do anything possible to hide or go away whenever my uncle’s car would pull into our driveway. It was almost as bad as the duck-and-cover routine to avoid nuclear fallout that we learned in grammar school back then, and the situation was exactly as futile. In both cases, you just can’t get away. Like I said, my uncle was a good man; a minister and everything. He was just rude, and unavoidable. The way people like that operate, and get their way, is that most decent people would rather not ruin their own day with some big verbal confrontation. Therefore, my uncle always seemed to get his way. As an associated side-note, I will tell you that a company I once worked for actually encouraged their upper management to read a terrible book entitled: “Winning Through Intimidation.” The premise of the book was to make people who worked for you scared to death of the sight of you, and that doing so would make them work harder. I never read the book. I never wanted to. I already knew my uncle, and he probably wrote it.
The type of person I’m referring to as making one simply uncomfortable is much less harsh a type than my uncle was. This person is one who says slightly cutting things that are just not necessary to be said. He is one who would have never heard his mother tell him: “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.“ He would have been far too busy pulling the wings off from a housefly to listen to that. You know the type, and I‘ll wager you have a mental image of an individual, in your mind, right now. I have several. I used to think that a person like that was just trying to be funny, in saying some stupid and, coincidentally, hurtful thing. Come to find out, in most cases, there is no coincidence about it at all, no matter how much ‘stupid‘ is involved. To be fair, there are some legitimately stupid people, and those are okay to say whatever they want. Doing or saying something because you can’t help it is always okay, in my book. I would rather put up with a thousand stupid comments made by legitimately stupid people, (I have several liberal friends.) than with one stupid comment made by a smart person. You see, smart people do it on purpose, and that, to me, is inexcusable.
I’m writing about all this today because, over the years, I have been verbally accosted, although accosted is too strong a word, by a handful of people whom I believe to be smart, but who seem to like to say ’uncomfortable’ and unnecessary things, and thought you might have had similar experiences. Those unnecessary things, unfortunately, always seem to be etched deepest in the memory. They are particularly difficult to erase. I do take heart in the fact that there is justice, in the next life for sure, and in this one, for some. Such people as we have here discussed soon exhaust an ever-diminishing list of friends, who may not actually cross the street to avoid them, but who also would not cross the street to bid them “Good day.”
If you know someone like this, who says ’uncomfortable’ things to you, figure out if they are smart people, or stupid. If stupid, then chalk it up to that, give them a big hug, and move on. I they are smart, move on still, only a bit faster.
I have learned that many people go through life completely unimpaired by the rare speech impediments known as tact and manners. If you are one of those people, stop it.
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