On Being Blessed

By. G. E. Shuman

                I’d like to know what you feel the real meaning of being ‘blessed’ is.  I know what it means to me, but I have no idea what it might mean to you.  You know, we use that word ‘blessed’, very casually sometimes. At least I know I’m guilty of doing that.  In that regard, the word is like the word love.  I love my wife and all my family members very much.  I might also say that I love big fat mushroom bacon cheeseburgers.  I’m sure you see my point.

                So, what about this word, ‘blessed’?  So many people have told me that I am, truly, blessed with a great family.  I could not agree more.  All I need to do is walk around a store with our new granddaughter Nahla sitting in the seat of my shopping cart, and people literally approach us and comment about her beautiful face; her striking eyes, her great smile, every single trip. (She does look a bit like her grandad.) And I’m so proud of my kids, the other eleven of our twelve grandkids, and our brand new great granddaughter, Londyn.  Wrap that all together with having the world’s best and most dedicated wife, a great upbringing with my five siblings by loving parents, and it just couldn’t get much better.  I am, and always have been, very blessed.  I have not always appreciated that fact.

                One of my doctors, very recently as I was expounding, (perhaps a bit too much,) about some great accomplishment or other of one of my kids, told me that I was very lucky.  He then actually paused, looked momentarily at the ceiling of his office, and said that as soon as he said the word ‘lucky’, he knew it was the wrong word to use.  I then told him that my wife and I consider ourselves to be blessed.  His immediate reply was that we really are blessed. Then he said: “It’s good to be blessed, but it’s even better to realize that you are.” I consider that to be a very profound statement, by a very wise man.

                So, please allow me to ask once more what the word ‘blessed’ means to you.  It may mean nothing, very little, or very much to you. For some, the words ‘bless you’ are nothing more than something to say when someone sneezes.  I don’t think that quite covers what it truly means to have someone ‘bless’ you.

                Two short dictionary definitions of the word ‘bless’, when used as a verb, are as follows:

“To bestow good of any kind upon,” and “To protect or guard from evil.”  Those definitions are the right ones to describe how I feel about this idea of being blessed.  That is because for me to have good bestowed upon me, there simply must be a ‘bestow-er’.  To be protected or guarded from evil also absolutely implies the presence of a ‘protector’ or a ‘guardian.’

                Yes, I have been greatly blessed with family and friends, and with many other things, as have you.  For just one example, you and I live in the freest, richest, most wonderful country on planet earth.  I have never felt that I am at all deserving of that. This is, I know, because I really am not deserving of it.  Yet, I am here, as are you. We are blessed.

                Coincidentally, or not, you are likely reading this column either on Independence Day, or at least during the week following it.  Please take some time to honor in your heart the men and women who fought to bring that independence and freedom to our great land, and for those who have since sacrificed to keep us free.  Love your family, appreciate your country, fly your flag, and count your many other blessings this week. 

                I am well assured and convinced of who my bestower of blessings, protector, and guardian is, and I thank Him for His blessings, every day. I hope you do also.

Got the Time?

By G. E. Shuman

          I want to tell you about a small thing, a coincidence, if you will. It is something that happened to me, a few weeks ago. I’m not sure if it’s worth telling you about or not, but it looks like I’m going to anyway. Truthfully, in this small coincidence, I think someone was ‘trying to tell me something,’ as they say.  That someone must have been God, as the only other one I know who frequently tries to tell me something is my wife, and I don’t think she had anything to do with this.

          The thing is, as many of you may know, I am a teacher by profession, and a writer only by hobby. Some others of you may know that I am also a recovering retail manager, and am still often haunted by those long-ago days.  (That last point had nothing to do with the subject here, but, like I said, ‘haunted’.)

          I mention that I’m a teacher because everyone knows that we educators get the summers off. (Why didn’t I follow this career path many years ago?)  And, yes, some people think it’s unfair that we have so much time. I happen to agree with the ‘unfair’ part, so if you would like to start teaching, and join me for summers off, I would encourage you to do so. Just don’t think it’s all about heading home at three o’clock and long Christmas breaks… it’s not. (Although, those things are pretty cool.) My honest opinion is that, although I love the kids, by the time summer gets here time off from school is necessary so that someone doesn’t get hurt. After all, that someone would probably be me, and I don’t want ‘me’ to get hurt.

          The small thing that I began telling you about, I will finish telling you about now.  You see, for the past two years, sometime in June, my watch has failed me.  (You all know what a watch, or a wrist watch is, right?) People my age know, but young people today just look at their phone to find out the time, as they look at it to find out everything else. 

          Anyway, yes, for two Junes in a row now, whatever watch I had at the time has no longer been able to put the time on my wrist, and I’m a guy who ALWAYS wears one of those old-fashioned things. Last year the hands on my watch just stopped going around. Replacing the battery didn’t work. Its ticker had simply stopped and just would not restart. That’s not a good thing, if you’re a watch, or a person.  Last month my new watch lost one of those little pin things off the strap and the watch literally fell into the trash. I noticed the poor watch lying there in the coffee grounds and vegetable scraps, and rescued it. 

          I am very aware that for a dollar or so I can get a new pin for my watch. I have almost done that, several times now. For some reason, I have not, yet. It’s a strange feeling to think that someone is trying to tell you something, especially two Junes in a row. If that is what’s happening, I really don’t want to miss the message.

          The watch has been off my wrist for about two weeks now, and during some parts of the day I have no idea of the exact time. It’s true that I could pull my phone from my pocket and find the time, but it’s getting easier and easier to not find the time to do that. There is great freedom in not being controlled by what is read on the face of a clock or watch.

          So, if you have some free time this summer, for a vacation, a long weekend, or even just a totally unscheduled day, try taking your watch off and leaving it on your dresser. It will take a little weight off your wrist, and a lot off your mind.  You may soon feel that someone is trying to tell you something.