TIME

 

 

Time plucks golden days from us

Like a lover plucks petals from a rose.

  Petals flutter off into nothingness,

Yet seed remains for next bright bloom.

 

Events and people fall into our lives like raindrops,

Some sweet upon the tongue, others only bitter cold;

Some fall far away, never to be felt or tasted,

Coming unbidden, tapping on our consciousness,

Random whispers of what awaits.

 

We drink those we fancy, sip their sweetness,

Endure the ones that chill our bones,

Naming each drop for the echo it leaves behind.

 

Some vanish before they touch our skin,

Evaporating into memory we never lived,

While others author indelible stories

Reflected in our faces, warped but true.

 

Events and people fall into our lives

Like raindrops on our face,

  Not chosen, unsummoned, but always felt.

And by their falling, we learn to taste the world.

 GROWING OLD

 

Harsh light reveals lines on the face in my mirror

A map of the journey that brought me to here

I search somber eyes for courage to face

The challenge ahead to finish my race

 

Time drips away like my unshed tears,

Evoking moist memories of all the years.

Dim echoes of youth whisper hollow and cold,

Dreams once bright growing quietly old. 

Shadows stretch long in the fading light,

Each moment a flicker in the impending night.

Hands once steady now tremble with grace,

Their touch still warm, though slowed in pace.

 

The laughter of youth, a distant refrain,

Soft as wind brushing windowpane.

I gather the fragments too fragile to hold—

Silver-lined memories worth more than gold.

 

Regrets stir gently, not fierce nor loud,

Like leaves descending from burgeoning clouds.

Yet pride remains in all that is done,

By callused hands and battles won.

 

A final chapter not yet penned—

Time to forgive, love, and amend.

Though steps may falter, and breaths grow thin,

The soul stays bold beneath the skin.

Trump 47 (And 48?)

    Two weeks after President Trumps's inauguration, a Republican in the House of Representatives has introduced a bill to amend the Constitution and allow him to run for a third term.   The amendment would only apply to future presidential elections.  This should send up red flags on both sides of the Congressional aisle.  Carefully considering my other option, I voted for Trump.  But I am not blind to the obvious.  His administration of the power of his office will require restraint.

    It is another example of how Congress continues to abdicate its responsibility to govern.  They are perfectly content to let a president govern by executive orders and concern themselves only with re-election.  The result is that corporate lobbyists spend millions to buy legislation in their interests and politicians become millionaires many times over.  In the case of an 85-year-old 5 term Senator, the only positive outcome is that he or she will become wealthy and special interests will receive favorable votes.

    It has become virtually impossible to unseat long-term politicians because of their ability to build a formidable campaign war chest for re-election.  Political success is now measured by which candidate has the most money to spend on advertising and publicity.

   The Twenty-Second Amendment limits a President of the United States to two terms--And it was a prudent Amendment.  It has prevented stagnation of political policy and deterred any thought of dictatorship.  Trouble is, it neglected to include Congressional term limits.  Since Congress makes laws, the likelihood of them limiting their own terms should not be expected anytime soon. 

    Personally, I will find it hard, in future elections, to vote for any incumbent.

    

CAMPUS PROTESTS

 I am familiar with the people demonstrating on college campuses in favor of Hamas.  I have seen them before.  Turn back the clock 50 years and you would see them throwing rocks at soldiers returning from Vietnam.  You would see them burning draft cards and fleeing rather than serve their country in uniform.  You would see the same kind of filthy encampments and the same pampered and privileged people who are the leeches of democracy.  They demand all the amenities of our great country and shirk any responsibility for maintaining it.  They revel in praising dictators and terrorists while dragging our flag through the mud.  I have no sympathy for them.  They are beneath contempt.

 Let me begin by stating what should be felt by any sentient human.  I am deeply saddened by the loss of innocent lives in Gaza.  By innocent I mean the women and children who live there.  Women because they had no vote.  Children because children of every ethnicity are innocent.  But it should be remembered that 75% of the male citizens of Gaza elected Hamas as their ruling government.  When Hamas attacked Israel, raping women, beheading babies, killing innocents and taking hostages it was the same as if the country of Gaza had done it.  It was a planned and deliberate act of war and war always has innocent casualties.  The loss of civilian lives in both World Wars was horrific. The conflict in Gaza will be prolonged for as long as it takes to eradicate Hamas.

Western Wall, Jerusalem

 

Damascus Gate Entrance to the Old City of Jerusalem

COVID 19

 Wuhan Labs should be prosecuted in International Court for deliberately engineering and releasing a virus intended to be lethal to humans--and Anthony Fauci should be prosecuted for lying about it.

It will be years before the full extent of COVID's damage to civilization is known.  Besides the worldwide death toll, there were repercussions in almost every facet of life.  Long-term side effects are still being discovered in patients.  Businesses closed or changed how they operated.  Jobs were lost and never came back.  Kids were deprived of a year of formal education and social interaction with other kids.  People were coerced into receiving vaccines that were relatively untested.  Quarantines were imposed.

Yet, no person or entity is being held responsible for their deliberate evil.

The Black Elephant

     Let me preface this rant with a spoiler alert.  I am a White male. I am going to voice my opinion on racially sensitive issues.  In doing so, I risk a lifetime of 80+ years building a reputation of fairness and honesty.  I am too old to care about that anymore; I am more concerned with the deliberate distortion of truths surrounding racism.  These distortions are being perpetuated by mainstream media, academia, and government bureaucracy.  Why do they turn a blind eye to what is glaringly obvious?

    Black Americans are being conditioned to believe anything that adversely influences their lives is a result of racism.  BTW, it is now considered racist for Whites to use the word racism.

    Facts:  13% of the U.S. population is Black.  Young Black Americans are being shot at 100 times the rate of White teens. There is far more Black on White crime than vice-versa.  Prison populations are much more than 13% Black.  Smash and grab robberies and urban arson are committed by blacks at a rate exceeding White, Asian, and Hispanic combined.  According to standardized tests, less than 5% of Black high school graduates are college ready.  As much as 75% of Black babies are born to single mothers. 

    Is all of this a product of racism?  Are Blacks not as smart as other peoples?  Is Black crime an inborn trait?  Are Black people not as moral?  Of course not.  During the WWII era more Blacks stayed married than Whites.   In those times many Blacks distinguished themselves in a variety of endeavors requiring intellectual excellence.  So, what can be the problem?

    I believe that the Black sociological experiment begun in the 1960's is the Black Elephant in the room that everyone seems embarrassed to confront.  Black children were conditioned by government and educators to see themselves as victims of White Americans. At about that time the number of single parent households began to rise, the result being that single moms were struggling to raise and provide for kids instead of thinking about careers.  Young Black males with working mothers sought acceptance in unsavory urban pursuits.  The "turn on, tune in, drop out" counterculture movement was translated by Blacks into a rebellion against all things White.  Malcolm X was their militant hero.  Young Black males rejected Christianity and turned to Islam. 

    We have to eventually see that IT AIN'T WORKING!  Race relations are probably worse now than at any time since the Jim Crow laws of the 1960's.  There is a vast difference between equality and equity.  Equality is a God-given right; Equity must be earned.

    

 Paducah, KY Aug 21, 2021

“THE JOURNEY IS THE REWARD”

(Tao Saying)

 It seems to me each generation finds life’s journey a bit easier than the one before.  I know my mother and father had it a lot tougher than I did growing up.  And I don’t mean to minimize the troubles that beset today’s youth.  Their problems, while much different from those I faced, are nevertheless real and maybe more challenging than those I was faced with.

 My journey began in St. Louis, Missouri.  The road has led me to marvel at wonders in the far corners of the world and to eke out subsistence living in remote locales in my homeland.  When I was very young, I slept on a corn shuck mattress and wore shoes with cardboard inserts to cover holes in the sole.  Now I live in a climate-controlled home with all the modern conveniences and want for nothing.  All my life I have had the love and affection of family and friends, even though there were times when I didn’t recognize nor appreciate those luxuries. Now past the eightieth anniversary of my birth, I have had a splendid ride and consider myself much more fortunate than most.  Now it is time to come to terms with the reality that I may soon embark on life’s last great adventure.

 Congestive heart failure.  As I type these words, I am still not sure I fully comprehend their meaning.  On the page the stark words look misshapen and ugly.  Prognosis—five years.  Those years may involve substances and procedures I don’t want to contemplate.  It will surely entail a lot of discomfort.  I have always said that I do not fear death—it is a prolonged and painful dying that terrifies me.  I have lived through that as a caregiver and don’t look forward to the prospect.

 Herodotus wrote: “Death is a delightful hiding place for weary men.”  That seems to me a nice way to go—just expire of weariness. 

 I pray that my journey may end with weariness and not with agony.  That is all any man can hope for.

 Dec. 2023 POSTSCRIPT: This was written in 2021, when I was in the unrelenting grip of COVID19.  Despite receiving the Phizer vaccines and booster, I had the disease and all of its attendant maladies—Heart problems, respiratory illness, loss of taste, appetite and smell. My body weight had shrunk from 165 to 103 pounds. I was in the early stages of organ failure.  I think my health care providers and most of those close to me had pretty much given me up.  In all honesty I had, too.  But, by the grace of God and with the indispensable and ungrudging help of my wife, Suzanne and especially my brother, Keith, I am almost fully restored to health.  I believe God heard our prayers, and by His grace I have been given a few more years.  I can more keenly appreciate them now.

Fast Food

Or, Things to Remember as You Pull up to the Order Station

1.  The person on the other end of the device you are speaking into has probably been awake for no more than the time it took to get from their home to their Work Station........If that long.

2.  He or She is no more than 18 years old, and therefore "educated" by modern standards.

3. They are passionate about the evils of global warming, but care not one whit how you like your Whopper.  

4.They know a lot about cultural diversity, but very little about the anatomy of a Big Mac.

5.They know and can recite the lyrics to dozens of gangsta rap songs, but can't repeat back to you what you just ordered.

6. Finally, prepare yourself to be surprised when you open the bag.

 

CHRISTMAS LIGHT

Since the dawn of human history, we have sought the LIGHT and feared the darkness.  Darkness was full of danger and unimaginable predators.  LIGHT warded off the evils and illuminated the dangers. 

A satellite view of the earth is bejeweled with crystalline glimmers from nearly every corner. Humans incessantly seek to conquer the darkness with LIGHT.

 LIGHTs are everywhere we look at Christmas time—festive, sparkling, multicolored—they decorate the darkness.  But, with LIGHT so ubiquitous, have we lost our appreciation for it?  The third verse of the Bible reads: “And God said ‘Let there be LIGHT, and there was LIGHT’.”  LIGHT is a divine gift directly from God to us. Jesus himself said, “I am the way, the truth, and the LIGHT.”

Let me be forever reminded that the precious gift of LIGHT is now mine.  It took me a lifetime in darkness to see it, but it was there for the asking.  

 

             THIS I BELIEVE

 I believe in the God of my father, the God of my Grandmother, the God of Abraham, the God of Jesus of Nazareth--All One and the same.  I believe God created the universe and all that is in it.  I believe God endowed me with an immortal soul and, that when I die my soul will return to He Who gave it.  I believe God made me a free moral agent, with sole responsibility for my choices.  I believe I will ultimately be held to account for those choices and, without God's grace I could not pass the test.  I place my trust in the Word of the Lord that my spirit will find consolation and my soul will be received and find refuge with my Redeemer.

                 

Father's Day 2020

 

FATHER'S DAY

II Samuel 18:33 -- "O my son, Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would God I had died for thee, O Absalom, my son, my son!" ---- On this Father's Day I am reminded of King David's life and the tragedies surrounding the lives of his children. This photo shows Absalom's tomb (the pyramidal form in left center) in the Kidron Valley. These words bring tears to my eyes every time I read them. Photo taken in Israel @1982

IT CAN ALWAYS BE WORSE

My Rebuke

October 22, 2021

 Today, to my chagrin, I was rebuked by God. I can think of no other way to describe my morning. I left my house to get a haircut, depressed and complaining to my wife about the slow recovery from surgery on my right shoulder. When I walked in the door of the barber shop the first sight my eyes beheld was an elderly man with a military veteran's cap waiting in a chair. He had no right arm. Coincidence?

 

                                 Christmas

 

December 25, 2021

Christmas has always been a season of perspective. For a child, it is a time of excitement and anticipation--expectation. When will it ever get here? What will Santa bring? Christmas Eve orchestrates all those feelings into a crescendo and makes it a bit hard to find a restful sleep. Christmas morning brings a kind of relieved rush to the awakening and, if you remember, the kind of hope and happiness that can only exist in the heart of a child.

As we grow older, our role in the pageant of Christmas evolves to one more of an observer than a participant. At this stage of my life, I am a bit surprised to realize that it is now for me a time of nostalgia and reflection. I tend to recall happy Christmases spent with those who are absent from this day. And yes, thankfulness for the gifts that have been scattered along my life's path, not the least of which is the Namesake of this Holy Day.

May Christmas always remain in heart of every child--no matter how old we are.

To all my extended family I wish the gift of health, happiness, and prosperity in the coming year.

An Old Easter Egg

 

Every now and again, usually while rummaging about trying to remember what I am looking for, I stumble upon a relic of my past.  Most often I wonder that I choose to keep such a thing, but after a pensive moment or two refreshing old and treasured memories, I always return it to its accustomed place---until the next time.This hand-painted glass Easter Egg is a prime example of my pack-rat nature.  It is as least as old as I am.  I was born in St. Louis in November, 1941.  To commemorate my second Easter I was given this fragile glass egg by two elderly ladies who lived in an apartment adjacent to our house.  Back then they were probably called Old Maids.  I have dim memories of my mom taking me out in our small yard where at times we would encounter one or both of these neatly attired women across a shared fence.  Their names were Pearl and Jeanetta--it is astounding to me that such trivial things as their names remain firmly ensconced in the remote folds of my brain after all this time---and I can't remember why I came in this room.I am approaching my 79th birthday, so I know Pearl and Jeanetta have long left this earth, but I hope they know an old man still remembers. 

HUNKERED DOWN

 

The COVID-19 (Better known as Coronavirus) has most of us in a kind of anxious state of cabin fever.  We are told to practice “social distancing”,  bars and restaurants are closing, businesses are shutting down,  people are losing their jobs,  the stock market is tanking.  Some areas of the country have been told to “shelter in place.”  In the face of these daunting problems it will be easy for us to let ourselves become discouraged to the point of depression.....and I have at times of late found myself seeing only the dark side.

I have always been an avid reader and with the current state of affairs I have had even more time to kill with a book in hand.  Being a bit of a nerd, I like poets and poetry.  With that in mind, I would like to introduce you to the words of Robert W. Service, an early twentieth century Canadian poet.  With good old American ingenuity and with God’s amazing grace we’ll get through this.  Be well, my family.

The Quitter

It’s easy to cry when you’re beaten and die

It’s easy to crawfish and crawl.

But to fight and to fight when hope’s out of sight,

Ah, that’s the best game of all.

And when you come out of each grueling bout

All beaten and battered and scarred,

Have one more try.  It’s dead easy to die.

It’s the keepin’ on livin’ that’s hard.

THE MYSTERY OF THE PASSION

 

At the age of seven I walked with my grandmother to the altar of Camp 8 Church in rural Wayne County, Missouri and accepted Jesus Christ as my savior.  In somewhat elder years, I'm not now sure what motivated me to do this.  At that time in my life I remember being somewhat afraid of God.  I think any young child who attended this church and heard the fearsome sermons preached from its pulpit must have felt at least a little trepidation to be told that they were in peril of everlasting fire and brimstone if they did not confess their sins and come to Jesus. This surely was a part of the reason I knelt at that altar with Grandma Wilson's hand on my shoulder.  But as we tarried there, eyes closed, I felt a welcome relief from fear.

Since that time my religious life has taken many sideroads and detours and I have not always been faithful, but from that first personal encounter with God, I have always been fascinated by and repeatedly drawn to the study of biblical accounts of the days leading up to Christ's crucifixion and resurrection.  As Mardi Gras ends and the days of Lent are observed by some of my Catholic friends, I am each year led to reconsider these events and how they remain pivotal in the life of Christians more than 2000 years after they occurred.

This is the bedrock and foundation on which Christianity is constructed and, while Jesus' message was fairly simple ( one need only to accept Christ as savior and recognize that one's soul was in need of redemption), I have never fully understood how and why the passion came to be required of God.

As a child, I was told Jesus' suffering and ultimate crucifixion was necessary for my salvation, and I felt guilty for being responsible.  I know now that feeling of guilt was misplaced, but even now I am awestruck at the immensity of the torture, pain, and humiliation Christ willingly bore for the salvation of humankind.

In Jesus' encounter with Pilate, he said to the Roman governor, "Everyone that is of the truth heareth my voice."  Pilate replied, "What is truth?" Jesus left this question unanswered and perhaps it is unanswerable, but if anyone is qualified to answer it, it should have been Jesus.  I wanted Him to give an answer.  

Jesus' first words from the cross were "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do."  Who was Jesus referring to?   Pilate and the Romans who passed sentence on him and now parted his raiment and cast lots for their possession?  The Jewish priesthood who were complicit?  The crowds who gathered at the foot of the cross and mocked him?  His own disciples who had denied and betrayed him?  The criminals crucified on either side of him?  And why was forgiveness even necessary if they were merely doing what was required of God?  This is the beginning of mystery for me.

In my working years I used my hands to make a living with a blue-collar job in maintenance at a paper mill.  On more than one occasion I have struck my finger or thumb with a misguided hammer blow and the pain was severe.  I am at a loss to explain why a Father would require his Son to be nailed to a cross, spikes 5 to 7 inches long driven through hands and feet, and this only after being cruelly scourged with iron-tipped lashes until the flesh was flayed from his body. Could God not think of a better way?

My dad was the most devout believer in the salvation of Jesus that I have ever known, but he cautioned me in my youth not to believe everything I hear from a pulpit.  He said God gave you a brain and He wanted you to use it.  He pointed me to a passage in II Timothy 2:15, " Study, to shew thyself approved unto God, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth."

My salvation is a gift from God, but it will ever remain a mystery and I may not know the "truth" until I have passed from this life.  And that's okay, because it reminds me, especially at this season of the year, that I need not have all the answers---only to continue the quest. 

In closing this post, I will add that nearly seven years would pass from that day at Camp 8 Church until I was baptized at Lone Oak Baptist Church in Paducah.  I don't know why, but I am guessing that I moved back to St. Louis with my family shortly thereafter and it wasn't until I was in the seventh grade that I realized I had some unfinished business to take care of.  I think my brother was baptized in that church as well.

VANITY

I read Ecclesiastes

And ponder what it really means.

“Vanity of Vanities”

Our impotence and insanity,

“Vanity of Vanities”.

Does God lament what he created?

Is all our effort simply wasted?

“Vanity”, intones the Preacher.

vanity is in man's nature.

“Vanity of Vanities”

A life pursuing false idolatry

 abruptly ends in sad threnody.

All we have and all we are

can take us finally just this far.

“Vanity of Vanities”.

All we do will come undone,

All the victories we have won

Are tinsel in the winds of time,

Returned to dust by Grand Design.

“Vanity of Vanities”

In much wisdom is much grief

And our stay on earth is brief.

All we get and all we gave

At last goes with us to our grave.

“Vanity of Vanities”.

To every thing there is a season.

love and giving is our reason

to Live the glory of only being.

Harken to the Preacher’s preaching.

All else is Vanity.

Copyright 2019 Ken Ragan

Collage made from a card I sent to my Dad many years ago.  He still enters my thoughts at times.

THANATOS

Men still search for the ultimate answer

As a cold, bleak world spins faster and faster.

Their lives are torn;

Their nerves are worn;

And truth eludes them, like a flitting dancer.

They stumble blindly in their few short years,

Groping for happiness, finding fears.

Their faith is shaken;

They are forsaken;

And fate looks on with a knowing leer.

To think of peace on this wretched earth

Is vanity manifest—Satan’s mirth.

Here darkness reigns

With agony and pain,

To make strong men cringe and curse their birth.

Love is the answer.  Here you say

Lies the comfort for which we pray.

If this be true,

Then why so few

Who have searched for love and known it stay?

Then God is the answer.  He’ll show the way

To prepare my soul for a glorious day.

I want to believe,

But my heart grieves,

For I called on Him and He turned away.

The grave is the answer.  This way is best

To still the heartache within my breast.

Here is my peace;

I’ve found release;

I am young and I welcome death.